


dirty laundry (looks good on you)

by ninwrites



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: 30k+ of self-indulgence, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Insecure Magnus Bane, M/M, Mix of Show and Book Canon, Poor Raj, Post-Episode: s02e10 By The Light Of Dawn, Songfic, Supportive Alec Lightwood, Sweet Alec Lightwood, Sweet Magnus, based off an all time low song, camille is a sly bitch, canon? never heard of her, communication!, competency kinks are everywhere, for plot reasons, happily ignoring canon, inspired by a tumblr post, love and support, minor-ish spoilers for TID, relationships take effort guys, she could get herself out of a shoe box, so many different kisses, so much love, spoilers for Bane Chronicles, then it's canon divergent, these two know how to make it work, though only a sliver, until 2b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 10:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11034750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninwrites/pseuds/ninwrites
Summary: Relationships are like empires. Strong and powerful, able to withstand almost anything, powerful and everlasting. However, relationships, much like empires, can crumble just as easily as they're built.Magnus has seen empires rise and fall as quickly as he's seen his own relationships disintegrate. Hundreds of years alive can weather a person until they're hesitant about both. The Nephilim have created their own empire, and with Valentine's rise, are slowly watching it fall in cascading shards around them.Magnus refuses to stand by and watch his relationship crumble, not by his own hand. Valentine may be destroying the world but there is something Magnus can salvage before it is too late.--Or the one in which Magnus is adamant he and Alec talk about their relationship before either of them can ruin the beautiful thing they've created between them, and Alec slowly but surely chips away at Magnus' walls to reveal the beautiful man beneath he's fallen so deeply for.





	dirty laundry (looks good on you)

**Author's Note:**

> Post 2a. Post-love confession. An analysis over Magnus and Alec's progressing relationship with holes filled and hope projected. Planned before the plot of 2b was revealed so definitely canon-divergent. I've watched 2a once, so there is a possibility for inaccuracies. Sorry.
> 
> mix of show and book canon. some things are changed - i.e physical files instead of electronic ones because it worked better with the scene (and I like the idea that people, such as Magnus, have very thick files containing everything the Clave knows because they're creepy like that)
> 
> inspired by [this post](http://bilesandthesourwolf.tumblr.com/post/158099651394/i-need-a-malec-fic-about-the-aftermath-of-that) with permission from bilesandthesourwolf. Thank you for the inspiration - I've admittedly changed it up a teensy bit, but I hope you still like it! (And I'm really sorry about the wait, this kind of got out of hand...)
> 
> \- hands down if you think this is good the live experience of the actual song is 100% better I totally cried and you should totally listen to [the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hTwmxiLSD0w) while you read this because it's ace -

_'I don't believe in saints. They never make mistakes.'_

_-_

Magnus has been around for a while. He's seen and done a multitude of incredible things that many people refuse to believe.

Such as the time he flew across the sky on a magic carpet fuelled by drunk magic, or that one decade he'd spent as a pirate, more for the thrill of the escape than the treasures themselves. The sword-fighting had been a pleasant and exciting activity, and of course the deckhands and barmaids who kept him company when the oil lamps ran low and his chests overfilled with meaningless gold had eased the passing of time.

He's literally seen lines of royalty wiped out and empires fall from greed and selfishness. He's travellled the world time and time over, he's met people who've made more of an impact on him than those whom history remembers, he's loved and lost and loved again, in all forms.

However, if there is one thing that he's never been able to wrap his head around, one thing that he refuses to believe in, despite having seen it before him - it's saints.

Saints are an ideal, a manifestation of humanity's deepest desires to believe the best in their own people. Saints provide a sense of accomplishment and hope, that any ordinary person can be good and kind if not perfect providing they follow the lead of saints.

Angels, he's sure, were real once. And demons he knows far too much about. But saints are too perfect to be real. How can something that pure exist in this world of darkness and shadows?

Everyone makes mistakes. Even angels, he's seen, can make mistakes. One could argue that Raziel made a mistake blessing Jonathon Shadowhunter and instructing him to create a race of half-angel beings, for many of those believe that they are saints trapped in mundane form, that their sliver of angel DNA grants them the grace to act superior and omnipotent in the face of others with 'dirtier' blood.

Magnus may be a firm believer that anything is possible, especially where magic is concerned - but saints are not one of them. There are good and kind people who deserve to be thanked for their work, but they are not perfect nor are they without fault. Even 'saints' have made mistakes before.

Alec Lightwood, for one, is a beautiful, kind and incredible person. But he is in no way perfect, and Magnus has never once wished he was. No one is, he's proof enough of that, he's made more than his fair share of mistakes in his time.

Mistakes cannot be reversed, but they shouldn't be erased. Mistakes are helpful, even if they don't feel like it at the time, and Magnus has never once regretted a mistake he's made, not on reflection. He's made some bad decisions in his time, but they have all, in one way or another, taught him something.

Mistakes are what make him so wise. It's not time or impressive texts but life experience. And once he's made a mistake, he prefers to not repeat them. And so, he's determined to not make the same mistakes in his relationship with Alec, that he's made in previous ones.

The biggest being communication.

 

* * *

 

_' I know it's not my place...'_

-

Considering what just went down in the prior few days, Magnus half-expects a sweet text from Alec detailing his misfortune in having to stay at the Institute, and then silence for the majority of the night. From capturing Valentine to the loss of the Soul Sword - because Magnus is of the firm belief that it has been stolen, not simply vanished from sight as the majority of the Nephilim seem to wish - the New York Institute is likely to be a writhing mess of bodies, and not in the good way.

Yes, he and Alec had shared heartfelt confessions of endearing feelings and shared an incredibly sweet moment in full view of both anyone in the Institute and everyone around it, but that doesn't automatically mean that Alec is his to steal for the night.

Alec has a duty as a Shadowhunter, and Magnus respects that; he's not blind, nor is he foolish, he understands where Alec's loyalties lie, and they don't always align with his desires, or with Magnus' for that matter.

He sends Alec an encouraging selfie, bare-faced and fresh from the shower in a royal purple silk robe, winking in a way he hopes is charming enough to make Alec smile. It's sent with the caption - _'Think of me if the meetings are too stuffy! xx'_ \- and then he settles himself at his desk with a mug of tea in the hopes of getting some work done, considering he's been a tiny bit slack with his clients as of late. He's found it's always better to be ahead of the demand than flailing behind, because that's a quick way to lose his job. And as much as he quips and whines, he does like his job.

When he doesn't hear anything back, he assumes that Alec is too busy to answer his phone, and dismisses it for the time being. He has alerts on the wards at the Institute, and he trusts that for the next few hours at least everything will be somewhat okay. His shoulders carry the tenseness he's come to associate with fretting over Alec, but it's nothing new, and nothing that can't be pushed back while he gets his work done.

He's part way through translating an old Purgatic text, one scrawled on fading ink onto fragile and dusty parchment which makes his nose itch, when he hears the doorbell buzzing.

His immediate thought is that it's the Indian takeout he'd ordered a moment ago, the sound bringing to attention the gnawing hunger in the pit of his stomach. He leaves the leather-bound artefact on his desk and traipses over to the front door, not intending to frighten the mundane delivery person so late into the night - he has a good deal with the owner, but last he checked, the delivery boy was sixteen and prone to frights.

Unashamed in his silk robe and matching turban, Magnus swings open the door.

"Hi."

There he stands, Magnus' delicious boyfriend, still in the same dark olive t-shirt, same high-collared navy jacket that's undoubtedly sturdier than it looks, same lopsided and cautious smile, like he's always delicately excited and prepared in case something goes wrong.

Magnus hopes that, one day, that smile might be less cautious.

"A pleasured sight to behold." Magnus is smiling, he knows, he can feel it spreading without his permission or his care. "And one better than I'd expected."

A small frown creases Alec's forehead. "What had you been expecting?"

Magnus doesn't falter. "Takeout. But you're tastier."

A choked laugh bubbles from Alec's throat, his hand coming up to rest against the flat plane of his stomach. Magnus rubs his thumb along the ring on his other hand, the metal band familiar and calming.

 _It's incredible how much I_ love _this man._

"Sorry to disappoint?" The corner of Alec's mouth tugs up.

"Never," Magnus reassures him. "I thought you'd be stuck at the Institute to all hours."

Alec shrugs, the same boyish charm in his smile leaking into the hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "There was meetings and people sent to track the Soul Sword, but until they can move Valentine to a stable location there isn't much point in worrying about the sword. We don't have enough resources at the moment to focus on both, and the Clave are pushing the Downworlder issue to be-" Alec clears his throat awkwardly. "-Swept under the rug, so to speak."

Magnus nods, because he's not that surprised. The Clave care more about the reputation of the Accords than the practice, and considering the Soul Sword is only triggered to affect Downworlders, it certainly wouldn't be their top priority. There'll be meetings, soon, ones he'll be not-so-politely invited to, or otherwise forced into attending.

"I already talked to Jace, and he's ... okay, all things considered. He's staying there for tonight, and told me to thank you, but he'll be properly moving back into the Institute soon." A sly look crosses Alec's eyes, something Magnus files away for later. "Aldertree has allowed him back, and basically assured him that any 'previous discrepancies' will be ignored."

Magnus smirks, lifting his hands slowly until they're resting on Alec's broad chest. Alec glances down, his eyes catching the movement, before they flick back to Magnus. His hands find purchase on Magnus' hips, slipping a little on the silk before firming, the touch burning through the robe to Magnus' skin.

"I'm hoping, and don't think me too foolish, that means you're free?"

Alec hums, his gaze flickering down to Magnus' lips for a heart-quickening beat. "All night."

"Hm." Magnus leans forward, slow and teasing, his hands tight on Alec's chest. "It must be my lucky day."

He presses his lips against Alec's fleetingly, enough to spark interest, before pulling back. Alec sighs, his eyes closed and relaxed.

"Not if you keep that up." Alec mutters.

Magnus smirks, his hands sliding up until his fingers are pressing against the nape of Alec's neck. His nails scrape with a light touch, eliciting a breathy sigh from Alec, who grips his hips and pulls him closer. He waits, until the lust in Alec's eyes darkens, before closing the distance between them, his lips persistent against Alec's. The kiss is warm and hungry and sweet, their earlier confessions swirling around them like an aura, each clinging to each other for more as desperately as their dignity will allow.

"Alexander," Magnus mumbles against Alec's lips, pulling back reluctantly. "As much as I'd hate to pause what we're doing, _believe me_." He strokes his thumb along the column of Alec's neck, against the _deflect_ rune Magnus has a penchant for tasting. "I don't really feel like doing this in the doorway."

A flush of colour graces Alec's cheeks. "Right. Right, of course."

Magnus presses a quick kiss to Alec's lips, then his nose, then each of his cheeks, pulling back to see Alec's beautiful hazel eyes light up with what he now is aware for certain is love.

"I'm not suggesting we stop." Magnus says, in an attempt to reassure Alec. "The opposite."

Alec hums, using his hold on Magnus' hips to push him backwards into the apartment. "Then what are we doing, wasting time out here?"

Magnus waves one hand delicately, shutting the door with a click that sounds final. "I love the way you think, Alexander."

Alec blinks, his fingers pressing against the small of Magnus' back. "I love you."

A warmth floods out from the center of Magnus chest, and he surges forward, pressing against Alec as though he'll be able to meld them together into one entity. "I love you too." He whispers, kissing along Alec's jaw, hot and open-mouthed. "Oh, Alexander. I love you so much."

They tumble into the apartment, as close as human capabilities will allow. It may have only been a few hours since they first said the words, but Magnus knows he's been feeling it for longer than a day.

He's been feeling it, in some sense or another, since he first met Alec. Alec unlocked a new sense of love inside of him, a love that he's never quite felt before, not like this, not so intense and all-consuming.

Nothing as devastatingly beautiful.

 

* * *

 

_'Who am I to tell you that you need to change?'_

_-_

"Tell me something about yourself."

Magnus busies himself setting the fireplace alight, a new feature he'd installed knowing the cool change of the incoming weather. He knows Alec well enough to presume this question will lead somewhere, and he's caught between his fear of vulnerability and his respect for the man he loves.

"You already know so much," He states, off-handedly, flicking his hand to change the colour of the flames to a dim orange.

Alec is watching him, open and curious. "You've been around for centuries," He barely trips over the word. "There must be something you haven't revealed?" At Magnus' reluctance, he adds: "I'll go first, if that would make you more comfortable?"

Magnus' heart tugs in his chest. "Sure," He whispers, his voice cracking on the word at the emotion swelling inside of him. Alec, to his blessed credit, doesn't comment. He simply shuffles closer on the couch, until his knee is pressing against Magnus', a warm and present touch.

An _'I'm here'_ kind of touch.

Magnus reaches for Alec's hand, and just holds it. Alec smiles gently, before clearing his throat dramatically, as though preparing himself for the epic tale he is about to spin.

"This is one of my deepest, darkest secrets." He declares. "Known to very few."

"Like your sexuality, I'm sure there's little time before it will be revealed to all." Magnus snipes back, because it's familiar territory.

Alec glares at him, but there's an exasperated fondness beneath the dark exterior. "Very funny." He drawls, sarcastically. "Don't interrupt me."

Magnus mimes a zip across his mouth with his free hand, and nods. He knows better than to argue with a Lightwood, let alone Alec, who has proven his stubborness is not to be contended with time, and time again.

"When I was around fourteen, Jace, Izzy and I were on a solo mission - there was a horde of Kuri demons just sort of hanging around a few streets away, they hadn't attacked anyone but they were demons, so no one really felt comfortable just letting them roam the streets of New York." Alec shrugs, as though the detail is inconsequential. "Anyway, it was our first mission without any adults breathing down our neck, so we were pretty excited. Jace and Isabelle more than me, I think, but that's pretty much to be expected."

Magnus smiles, amused at the thought of the trio as fresh-faced teenagers facing demons with the enthusiasm that only the young and innocent can. Slowly, with a pressure that is light and barely noticeable, he graces his thumb across Alec's knuckles.

Alec clears his throat pointedly, but there's a smile playing at his lips that's devastatingly warm. "Everything was going to plan, Isabelle was whirling through like a hurricane, Jace just as quick and accurate, and I had the perimeter covered."

Naturally, Magnus thinks. How unsurprising and yet totally endearing, that Alec has always been a protector.

"There was a few left, and I had an arrow trained on one roaming around the outside," There's an excitement in Alec's eyes, something that points towards this being the climax of his story. "Arrow knocked in my bow, pointed dead at the demon, I was ready. This was going to be it, you know, my moment. The arrow was going to sail straight through it and off it would be sent to the depths of Hell where it spawned."

Magnus never expected to be charmed by Alec's storytelling this much. He's enrapt.

"Blood pumping, adrenaline coursing - all set up for the perfect moment. Or, as it occured, all set up for Jace to commit the worst crime imaginable."

This time, Magnus is unable to stop himself. "Worst crime imaginable?" He echoes, arching a dubious eyebrow. "When it concerns Jace, I find it hard to believe he doesn't often commit many crimes."

Alec sighs with resigned acknowledgement. "He's turned it into a skill. And upon reflection, the night could have transpired a lot worse. But at the time, yes, it was the worst crime imaginable."

Magnus tuts sympathetically. There's such odd passion in Alec's voice, considering the content he's discussing. It's unfairly adorable, not that Magnus can admit that, because he's not supposed to be interrupting.

"Jace had, somewhere along the line, lost his seraph blade - I think he tried to throw it at a demon - and he didn't have anything to attack with. You know how he hates to be left out." Alec rolls his eyes fondly at his _parabatai's_ predilection for the spotlight. "He searched for the next best thing, something to defend himself with until he could get his blade back, I assume."

"I don't like the sound of where this is going..." Magnus admits.

Alec sighs. "He pulled an umbrella out from a nearby dumpster, and accidentally opened it up in his attempt to jab a demon - and opened it up bare inches from my face, causing the end to cut my cheek and to henceforth thoroughly terrify me for life."

Magnus pouts, before the last few words properly sink in. "I'm sorry - for life? That incident scared you off from, what, exactly?"

Alec ducks his gaze, sheepishly. "I'm starting to regret this."

Magnus laughs warmly, lifting their joined hands to brush a kiss against the back of his hand. "Come on, you've started now. Don't leave me hanging, Alexander, that is simply cruel and unfair."

There's a beat of hesitant silence, during which Alec fidgets and shuffles and shows all visible signs of trying to squirm his way out of it. Until he gets to the point where resistance is futile.

"It scared me off umbrellas." Alec mumbles.

Magnus lifts his free hand, covering his mouth and stifling a grin against his palm. A few months ago, if he'd been told this information, he would have reacted a lot differently. Shakespeare, he recalls, mentioned that love is blind, and in this situation, dear William could not have spoken words with more truth.

"Alexander-"

"It's not funny." Alec glares, which doesn't help Magnus prevent the laughter from bubbling up his throat. "It's not. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I go all rigid, and-"

"I'm sorry." Magnus presses his lips together to better help his control. "I truly am apologetic, Alexander. Believe me. It's just - you're a shadowhunter, darling, you fight demons for a living, but a little shadecloth scares you?"

"You know phobias are called irrational for a reason, right?" Alec quips back. "Jace is scared of ducks."

Ducks. Magnus lets the low huff of laughter escape his mouth. _Ducks_.

"What?" Alec asks.

"Nothing, nothing," Magnus smiles reminiscently. "I simply knew a man, once, a shadowhunter like you, who had a deeply-rooted fear of ducks. 'Bloodthirsty little things' he used to call them. Interestingly enough, his son was quite a fan. I once witnessed him asking the ducks to embrace him as their king."

"As their _king_?" Alec echoes, amusedly.

"Well," Magnus inclines his head. "If I recall correctly, he was rather intoxicated."

Alec nods, as though it was what he'd been expecting. Magnus hums beneath his breath, the memory fond and warm, though no less bittersweet with all the years that have passed since.

"Is that your something?" Alec asks.

"My what, darling?"

"Your-" Alec waves his free hand vaguely, in the same way he tries to gesture about Magnus' magic. "Your something. I told you about my fear of umbrellas,"

"In an uncharacteristically detailed story." Magnus comments.

Alec smiles, giddily, though no less focused. "Right. Is the duck king your something?"

Magnus shakes his head, the image entirely too amusing to be fair. "You're my something," He utters wihtout thought. "I don't need a duck king."

Dusty pink stains Alec's cheekbones, and there's a softness to his eyes that Magnus recognises as love. He'd seen it before, but that was different, it wasn't confirmed before. Now, he knows without a square inch of doubt that what he sees reflected in Alec's window-to-the-soul eyes is truly love.

Magnus sighs, deep and reluctant. "I once pushed Marie Antoinette, the prestigious Queen of France into a hot air balloon."

Alec's eyes widen comically. "I'm sorry ... you did what?"

"It was all in the name of France, darling." Magnus exclaims in his own defense, for there is no one else that will speak it for him.

Alec raises a sarcastic eyebrow. Magnus hadn't been aware that one could raise an eyebrow sarcastically before he'd met Alec Lightwood. "In the name of France?"

"Alexander, are you questioning my motives?"

"I wouldn't dare." Alec grins, wolfishly. "However, I doubt that it was just in the name of France. Knowing you, I have the feeling there was more to it than that."

They stare each other down for a beat before Magnus decides that resitance is useless.

"There may have been a boy, involved."

There's a hint of mocking to Alec's grin now, the kind of quirk that is usually afforded to Jace. Magnus' isn't too fond of suddenly being on the receiving end himself.

"There it is," Alec states. He pauses in consideration, a softness taking over his features.

Magnus is acutely aware of the fact they're hands are still touching, grateful their palms aren't, as of yet, clammy or damp. It's a miracle, he's sure, on the basis of their love confession, for love is as powerful as magic itself. More so, if he's being honest.

"What was his name?"

Magnus' forehead creases. He blinks, once, twice, languid and cautious. "Alexander-"

"I'm not jealous." Alec clarifies, in a hurried gust of words, like he has to make sure Magnus believes him as quickly as possible. "Just, curious. You don't really talk about your past - you know, people-"

Magnus firmly believes that 'lover' is an outdated term, but he can't imagine another for what Alec is attempting to describe.

"His name was Axel," Magnus intervenes, quietly, his eyes on Alec's. "Count Axel von Fersen, to be exact." The name paints his tongue with a sweet nostalgia, sour as he swallows. "A military man with tousled black hair, eyes as blue and clear as a tempestuous ocean and a loyal heart larger than most."

Something clicks in Alec's mind - Magnus knows it as well as he knew his time with Axel was not meant to flourish. "What happened?" Alec asks, soft and kind.

Magnus knows that, if he were to express his displeasure, Alec would accept his wishes and change the subject immediately without any hesitance. It's the knowledge that he has every right not to answer, that spurs him on.

"He may have cared for me, but it was not in the way that I cared for him. His passion was for the safety of France, for the safety of the woman who had his heart - something I never would. He expressed gratitude in the form of a kiss, but there was no love in it for me, there was never any hope for us."

Magnus feels a little empathetic towards his past-self, enchanted by the unnatural beauty of France and glitter of hope that always comes with prospects of love, back before he'd been burdened and burnt and damaged - back before Camille had dug her creature of the night talons into his heart and torn without care.

Everything had been about fleeting beauty and innocent infatuation, Axel's _very strong feelings_ and Magnus' lust-fuelled desire to see him, time and time again. He was young and immortal, with all the time in the world to do as he pleased, caught in the thrills of a pleasurable life.

Thankfully, the years have wisened him.

"I'm sorry."

He blinks himself out of his reverie, dazed and a little thrown-off-balance. Alec has adjusted their hands, so that his fingers are slotted loosely between Magnus'. He's waiting, patient as ever, because he is the world's sweetest Shadowhunter and Magnus is unbelievably lucky to even know him, let alone to love him.

"Alexander, you have nothing to be sorry about." Magnus is stunned. Things hardly ever stun him - though surprise is becoming more and more commonplace with each day they spend in the same orbit.

It's Alec's turn to frown. "I know I have nothing to be sorry about. I'm sorry - for you. Because it, well, it sucks, what happened to you."

Magnus bites his bottom lip, gently and without thought. "Unrequited love, or even simply unrequited infatuation, is not something new to me. It hurts, I'm not going to lie and pretend it doesn't, but it's something I've learnt to overcome. It gets a little easier with time ... and alcohol consumption."

Alec laughs, a low, throaty sound that does unspeakable things to Magnus' heart. There's a flush of embarassed pink at the tops of his cheekbones, at the very unsubtle hint towards their rocky beginning.

"Was that a deliberate hit to make me feel uncomfortable?" Alec asks. "Because you're going to need to find better material if you want to distract me from the subject at hand."

"Permission is dangerous, Alexander. I have a lot up my sleeve, if you're daring enough to hear it." Magnus drops a flirty wink, to properly punctuate his point with the dramatic flair he's come to be known for.

"Perhaps not." Alec inclines his head bringing his face closer to Magnus' with an achingly slow pace. "I can think of other things, though, that I am perfectly daring to do."

"You're a secret daredevil at heart, aren't you Alexander?" Magnus twists his body until he's angled towards Alec better. "I was always under the impression that Jace was the obligatory, foolhardy one of the lot - but you're secretly the dauntless one, aren't you?"

Alec rolls his eyes, with both fondness and impatience. "Just kiss me, already."

"With pleasure."

 

* * *

 

_'Her closet's such a mess. Filled up with all the skeletons she's kept'_

_-_

The early morning sunlight is intrusive and annoying. Magnus has never really been an early bird - with the right persuasion, he's risen before his preferred time, but it's not something he makes a habit out of. He exhales with a deep groan and tucks his head further into the crook of Alec's neck.

"Your nose is cold." Alec mumbles, though he's kind enough not to push Magnus away. He's good like that.

"And you're warm." Magnus reasons. An image of Alec rolling his eyes paints the back of his eyelids, and he huffs in amusement.

"Remind me to buy you black-out curtains." Alec strokes the skin above Magnus' ribs, light and grazing. "Or something equally helpful to sleep."

Magnus presses a soft kiss the hollow of Alec's neck. "I'd fix it, but I'm very comfortable right now. Really, it's all your fault."

Alec laughs, the warm sound reverberating through Magnus. "My fault?" He echoes. "How is it _my_ fault?"

"Well, because you're so irresistible that I can't stand the idea of not touching you, and I'm in such a lovely position right now, mostly thanks to you, that I have no desire or motivation to move. Which means that I can't fix the curtain issue."

"Ah,"

"Yes." Magnus presses another kiss to Alec's neck, where his _deflect_ rune curls below his collarbone. "I'm very logical, Alexander. Especially where it concerns cuddling you."

Alec drops a soft kiss to the top of Magnus' head. The first time they did this, the first time that Alec stayed the night, Magnus felt uncharacteristically bashful in regards to his appearance. He's always been a proud man, and he knows that his skin is soft and clear and his hair is fantastic, because for almost four hundred yeas he's been taking extremely good care of himself. And yet, being with Alec gave him new cause to worry about his bed-head, the shadows beneath his eyes, the natural lines that paradoxically come with both stress and happiness.

All that had been dismissed quickly, when Alec offered him a shy but effortless smile, kissed his forehead and told Magnus without missing a beat that he looked beautiful.

Now, Magnus knows that he could have makeup smeared across his face in streaks and splatters, his hair messy and pointed in every direction - and Alec wouldn't care. Some days, though those days are rare, Magnus thinks that Alec might prefer his boyfriend bare-faced, which isn't something he's used to.

His makeup is a way for him to express himself, to show the world he's eccentric and he likes it, that he doesn't give a damn about the thoughts of others, because as the day-old adage goes, those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind.

 _Alec_ matters, though. And Alec _doesn't_ mind.

Not that Alec has ever dictated towards Magnus how he should style himself - he respects that Magnus' face is his own, that it's his to do what he likes with it, which is something Magnus appreciates more than he'll admit.

Alec also, surprisingly, understands that Magnus often uses makeup as an armour, a barricade, something that stands between himself and what he's about to face. Hardly anyone has ever bothered looking past the superficial usage to what really lies beneath.

It's an eerily perfect metaphor, when he considers it.

"It's so," Alec presses his fingers gently to the nape of Magnus' neck. "Peaceful, here."

Magnus hums, waiting for Alec to elaborate, knowing he will. He slides his hand up, over the ridges of Alec's abdomen up to rest flat above his heart, the steady beating relaxing and familiar.

Alec exhales slowly. "It's like, it's like the rest of the world doesn't exist, you know? We're in a, a bubble."

"Our own little corner of the world." Magnus lifts his head. It's pretty fair to assume that he isn't going to get back to sleep any time soon. He might as well make his early morning worth it.

Alec's barely awake, eyes half-lidded and soft, but his smile is warmer than the sunshine dripping into the room. It turns out that, perhaps Magnus hadn't dreamt the events of the night before. Perhaps, by some unexpected miracle, he's managed to capture the heart of a darling Shadowhunter, with the added marvel of having his affections returned whole-heartedly.

Alec had been breathless. Alec had actually been breathless, and whether that was from running around in search of Magnus - which seems unlikely given his profession - or the wild beating of his erratic heart, he'd been breathless.

Magnus, by a similar token, had been speechless. Not in the traditional sense, he had words, just not the right ones. Not enough. When he considered telling Alec how he truly felt, it was a _confession,_ with all the adorning bells and whistles.

In the end, he'd said 'I love you too', simple, straightfoward, without any embellishments. That was, though he loathes to admit it for the dignity of his own reputation, the best way to do it.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," Alec admits, quietly.

His dark eyes are wide and flooded with emotion - a privilege, Magnus knows. Alec is guarded, has been for most of his life, but over their time together his walls have come down, slowly, brick by brick, until small secrets are revealed without discomfort. Such openness is hard for him, but he's letting Magnus in, he's letting Magnus see, and that's a respect that the warlock can understand.

He drops his glamour, slowly, peeling away every barrier between his true self, and Alec. It's an easy thing, now, though it hadn't always. There's a reason that Magnus casts a glamour, that such a mask has become so familiar it often slides into place without his notice. In a rather twisted turn of events, most times the drop of his glamour is conscious, a part of him having become so deeply ingrained with haunting taunts it's always prepared, that when he wants it revealed he has to physically do it himself.

Around Alec, he has no concern for such facades.

Alec lifts his hand then, the movement so sudden Magnus is, for a split-second, a little startled. He graces his thumb, with the barest touch, across Magnus' cheek, curling at the corner of his eye, as though he had a smudge of makeup there - he doesn't, but the gentle nature of Alec's movement brings to thought the idea of something precious.

That calm air has been around them since the night before.

After their, rather interesting and revealing conversation, adrenaline had disintergrated into exhaustion, and despite Alec's sleepy, mid-yawn protests that he could stay awake, he wanted to keep talking - Magnus insisted they retire to the bedroom for the night. He'd resorted to telling Alec he was tired, himself, and although he's sure Alec understood what he was doing, the weary Shadowhunter had followed him into the bedroom, soft and pliant.

Magnus had insisted upon helping Alec got of his preposterously extensive gear, as Alec had been about to fall onto the bed with blades and shoes and no care in the world. Alec had made a quiet joke about tears in Magnus' sheets being the real reason, and Magnus had shushed him with a sappy smile.

They'd fallen into bed with ease, Alec curling up to Magnus tightly, arm wrapped protectively around his waist. As Alec's breaths slowly evened out, Magnus took the peaceful time to revel in the fact that not only had they both survived, but they'd come out of the incident stronger for it.

(He doubts he'll ever get the image of Alec's relief as he pulled him forward for a bone-crushing hug, out of his mind for a long time yet.)

It was only after he was sure that Alec was asleep, that Magnus pressed a warm kiss to his forehead, whispering 'I love you' in the privacy and quiet of the night, where he could smile as giddily as he wanted, remembering the urgency with which it had all spilled from Alec earlier.

Now, with morning painting the room in golden hues, Magnus can see that same love in Alec's eyes, only more subdued, calm, just - there. Just because.

"Your eyes are beautiful," Alec mumbles, almost to himself. "Your cat-eyes, that is. I mean, you're glamoured eyes are, too, obviously, because it's you and everything about you is beautiful ... but there's something different about your, uh, _natural_ eyes."

"A good, different?" Magnus asks, unable to keep the hesitancy from creeping into his voice.

The corner of Alec's mouth quirks up, in that lopsided smile that sends Magnus' heart into pulsing overdrive. "They show the real you," He explains. "No, facade or anything. They're you, all you. And they're beautiful."

"You've never talked about them before," Magnus swallows. Alec's hand is still on his face, still stroking his cheek, with such casualty it seems thoughtless.

"I haven't?" A tiny crease forms in the center of Alec's forehead. "I should have. I don't - I mean it, even if I've neglected to say it. I think they're-"

"Beautiful." Magnus smiles. "So I've heard."

Alec flushes, a splotched pink that rises from his chest and up his neck. Magnus, not from a point of pity but rather a selfish perspective, tilts his head the barest inch. Alec smirks, closing the limited distance between them, his hand braced gently on Magnus' cheek. Magnus' eyes flutter closed and he loses himself in the tender press of Alec's lips to his, slow and effortless. The kind of kiss that speaks of long nights and languid Sunday mornings, of new love and a new kind of family, one they've found with each other. It's all the feelings that are still budding inside, of things they aren't yet able to articulate, of everything they wish to say and more.

Alec pulls back with a smile on his lips and light in his eyes. Magnus feels like he's falling.

"I love you," He whispers. His hand is still on Alec's chest, and once the words have left his mouth, he feels Alec's heartbeat quicken.

It's a new and utterly fascinating kind of exhiliration to proudly utter those words.

Alec's whole expression is lit up with innocent wonder, a softness to his features that counteracts beautifully with the hard and stoic shadowhunter Magnus knows he becomes outside this room.

"I'll never be used to hearing that," He admits, playing with the ends of Magnus' hair, his fingers light against Magnus' neck.

Magnus hums, pressing a kiss to Alec's lips - the intention was for it to be quick, but to the surprise of neither of them, it doesn't stay brief for long. By the time Magnus eventually has the mind to pull back, albeit reluctantly, he's almost forgotten what his initial intention was.

And then Alec smiles in that blinding way, and Magnus feels like a fool for ever missing the point.

"I suppose," He traces a heart into the skin of Alec's chest. "I'll just have to keep saying it." His nose scrunches with the force of his own smile, and he doesn't care. He's not about to dampen his own happiness. "Over, and over, and over. Until you believe me."

Alec raises a curious eyebrow. "You'd go to all that effort?" His voice is light, but Magnus thinks he might not entirely be joking. "Just to ... to prove it, to me?"

"I'm all _for_ effort, remember?"

"I love you, too." Alec blinks. "I haven't said that, yet."

A warm laugh bubbles up Magnus' throat like reversed champagne. "You said it yesterday. Quite a few times, if I recall correctly."

"Yeah, but-" Alec purses his lips. "I haven't said it today."

"Alexander," Magnus is free-falling now. "You don't have to say it every day. It's not a quota that you have to fill. You say it when you want to, when it feels right, when you feel _it._ "

"What if I always want to?" Alec asks, with devastating simplicity. "What if I'm always feeling it?"

Magnus had always been under the impression that love, true, real love, like what he feels for Alec, was something that made a person stronger. And yet in that moment, he feels something akin to the shattering of his heart.

"Then," Magnus swallows, his mouth suddenly very dry. "Then, I suppose, you can say it as much as you want."

Almost a century is a long time.

"I love you." Alec states, with such firm conviction that Magnus feels winded. He may be a little out of practice with love, but Alec has _no_ previous anything to go by. All he has is this, what he feels for Magnus. Yet he sounds so utterly certain.

"I never thought I'd get the chance," He continues, trailing his fingers up and down Magnus' neck. It's soothing. "To love anyone, let alone as ... much, as fiercely, as I love you."

"Alexander, you're killing me." Magnus jokes, softly. He rotates his hand, the one trapped beneath pillows, because in the heat of the moment he'd forgotten about it, and it's starting to fall asleep, which isn't fair - he refuses for his hand to be awarded a luxury he isn't.

"I promise," Alec leans forward and drops a soft kiss on the bridge of Magnus' nose. "That isn't my intention. It would be pointless, really, after confessing my encompassing love for you, and all."

"Good point."

Magnus wonders how he ever got so lucky. After the endless lives he's led, the things he's done that even he can't admit, the skeletons cluttering his closet, let alone the horrors of his true lineage, love should, surely, be something he's doomed to yearn for but never receive.

And yet, he's still managed to end up with the love of a man he has no doubt will hold his heart, in some capacity or another, for the rest of his life.

Magnus doesn't know how he lucked out so fabulously, and he's not stupid enough to question it. He's just going to wrap himself in Alec's love, and pretend - for even just the remaining hour or so before Alec is undoubtedly called back into the Institute - that all that exists in the world is he, and the man who owns his heart.

 

* * *

 

_'Nobody's perfect, I confess...'_

_-_

Alec struts into the Institute a few hours later, veins thrumming with a joy he's never quite felt before. It's still a bit of a mess, which is fair considering the events of the last forty-eight hours, but it isn't enough to bring down his mood entirely.

Magnus had to head off and consult with the leaders of the New York Downworld, before unrest could spread too far for them to handle. They'd departed at the front door, Magnus slipping through a portal with an elegant wave and a quick kiss. He'd offered to make one for Alec, but Alec had insisted on walking, needing the air and the space to clear his mind and reflect without the presence of another person.

Last night had been one of the best - hell. Last night had straight-up been the best night of his life. He'd loved every minute of it, and mainly just because it hadn't been anything big, or extravagant or dramatic. It was as fun and normal as any other night they've shared together, just with the added knowledge that Magnus felt what he did.

He'd expected it to feel like this big, momentous thing when he woke up in the morning - he'd looked at Magnus, and felt pleasantly overcome with how much love he felt for the man next to him, but it wasn't anything big or terrifying. It was just - it was a fact. He loved Magnus. Simple as that. And Magnus loves him back, which is ... it's still exhilarating, every utter of those three words sends a thrill racing down Alec's spine.

Even seeing them in print is just as exciting. Alec pulls out his phone just as he's entering the main ops centre, delighted at the message lighting up his screen.

-

**Mags:**

_Raphael is sending me furious glares across the table. Meliorn is smirking - because of course the Seelie Queen couldn't deign us with her ethereal presence - and Luke, blessed Luke, is trying to keep everyone from shouting at each other._

_Myself, I am cradling a whiskey sour and sharing conspiratorial glances with Maia, because she gets me. Hope things are calmer on your end, although I find myself doubting it. <3 Love you, Alexander. xx_

_-_

He's smiling, warm and giddy. He types back a quick reply, his fingers buzzing as he taps out his returned affection, and manages to slip it into the back pocket of his jeans before strong arms tackle his shoulders.

Considering the nature of the hug and the fact he's being pulled backwards by the force, Alec presumes it isn't Jace who's attacked him.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, once Isabelle peels herself off his back. She's looking better, all things considered. There's still a light shadow beneath her eyes, and her makeup is probably keeping most of the damage concealed, but there's a light in her eyes that he's ashamed to admit has been lacking recently.

He really should have taken more notice before. He's going to take notice now, because if he can't change the past, he can at least fix his behaviour for the future. And, clean her seraph blades for a month, or something, to make up for it. Let her punch him without a bag between them during training - she used to like that when she was younger - though back then it was always between her and Jace and usually because Jace made a quip about her cooking.

"Tired," Isabelle admits with a shaky smile. "The place has been a wreck, sleep was a pipedream."

"I'm sorry," Alec fidgets with the sleeves of his jacket.

Magnus had magicked some clothes for him. Even though everyone is probably aware of where he spent the night, he prefers to face the day with clothes that are clean and fresh and don't hold memories of his fear the day before.

"I should have been here, I should have-"

Isabelle reaches out and grips his elbow tightly, her eyes wide and earnest. "Alec. It's fine." The corner of her mouth quirks sharply. "Besides, Mom heard that you and Magnus hugged outside the Institute and spent a good thirty minutes trying to stop the news from spreading. She was scrambling, it was fun."

Alec winces slightly. "She wasn't, mad, was she?"

"No," Isabelle shrugs. "Just, confused, I think. She didn't want people talking about it because then that wouldn't be focusing on tracking the sword."

"What about-" Alec grits his teeth. "He who shall not be named in favour of my happiness?"

Isabelle grimaces with him. "Lock-down, basically. They'd considered sending him to another Institute, but then decided that the move would be too risky. And of course they can't hire a warlock to portal him because they're not speaking to the Downworlders at the moment." Isabelle purses her lips thoughtfully. "Perhaps that's why Mom was upset. She can't use Magnus, so she can't stand for him to be mentioned."

Alec thinks there might be something more to his mother's actions than that, but he keeps it to himself. He may have told his mother that she can't do anything about his relationship, but he also realistically can't expect her to accept it immediately. Shes's stopped actively trying to interfere with his relationship, which he thinks has to count for something.

"He's guarded, and they've put runes everywhere, more than the Silent City ever had, I think." Isabelle admits. She sighs, sliding her hand so that it's wrapped around his arm. "Enough depressing talk about mass murderers. Let's talk about something lighter."

She starts pulling him along, and he follows willingly. "Do you have a particular topic in mind?" He asks, already presuming the answer.

"Hm. How about we start with that hug."

"You're a shark," Alec quips. "Can we at least do it in the kitchen so I can have some semblance of privacy?"

Isabelle grins. "You talk, I'll make coffee."

That, Alec trusts her to do. He nods his acquiescence and follows her through the hall, mindful and simultaneously uncaring of any heavy, looks that swing his way.

Isabelle, noticing the gazes herself, presses her fingers gently into the fabric of his jacket. "Mom tries, but news travels fast around here."

"I don't care." It escapes his mouth in a breathless gust. He believes it, too. "Let them talk about it. Spread the word that I'm happily dating the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and I could care less about what anyone else thinks - it's my relationship, after all."

"I must say," Isabelle declares."I quite like this new attitude you're rocking."

"I'm sick of doing what other people want me to," Alec admits softly, pushing open the door of the kitchen. "And I'm _tired_. Magnus - even before we, you know, got together, he helped me see that what I'd always predicted for myself wasn't a viable future, it could never have worked because I wasn't being honest with myself."

"And now you are." Isabelle states, though there's a thread of hope betraying her otherwise nonchalant tone.

"As much as one can be with what's going on."

In his mind, when he thinks about truly being honest with himself, he's dating Magnus like ... well, like mundanes do. Taking him out to, to that Ethiopian restaurant he keeps mentioning, or a movie, or something normal and romantic. The kind of date that Magnus deserves, where they can be out in the open, as a couple, not hiding away in Magnus' apartment.

Not that Alec minds hanging out in Magnus' apartment. Sometimes, he just wants to take Magnus out and, well, show him off, in a way. Show the world that he's been lucky enough to gain the affections of such a beautiful, wonderful man, because he can't do any of that around other Shadowhunters.

Isabelle releases her hold on him and crosses over to the coffee machine. Alec perches himself at the breakfast bench, knowing better than to try and get in her road. She'll probably threaten him with what she refers to as porridge but he knows is just grey mush.

"Are you hungry?" Isabelle asks, a daring glint in her eyes.

"Uh, no. Magnus made French toast." Alec smiles even at the memory. There'd been a fun stream of anecdotes to accompany the meal, but the company warmed him more than the food.

Isabelle glances over curiously. "You scored well in the boyfriend department, then. He makes you breakfast, often?"

Alec grits down a blush. "Sometimes."

Isabelle laughs softly, but there's nothing mocking in her tone. "You two are adorable. I'm happy for you."

Alec grins, biting his bottom lip gently to try and tamper down the force of his happiness. "So am I."

Isabelle darts around the kitchen, making their coffee, and Alec ponders over how he's supposed to tell Isabelle what happened between Magnus and himself. He'd been prepared to tell Jace yesterday, but then Jace had revealed his own dramatic revelation and Alec's own news had quickly been swept under the rug - finding out that Clary isn't actually Jace's sister is a little bigger than "hey I told Magnus I love him and, good news, he feels the same".

It had been kind of nice, too. Knowing that only he and Magnus knew what had happened between them, for a brief moment in time.

"So..." Isabelle slides a black porcelain mug with matching coffee over, before joining him at the bench. "The hug."

"Well, you know, with the Soul Sword and everything-" An involuntary shudder races through Alec. Isabelle lays a hand over his in silent support. "I had to find him. I had to make sure that he was ... okay, and - and alive."

"Of course," The tone of Isabelle's voice firmly reminds him that Magnus _is_ okay and _alive._ Alec knows, he hasn't stopped reminding himself of the fact since it was confirmed.

"And then, all of a sudden there was a touch on my elbow and I turned around and he was, he was _there_ , and I couldn't quite believe it, but - by the angel, Iz, the relief was overwhelming."

Isabelle's smiles with wistful distance. "I'm sure. Naturally, you wanted to limit the distance between the two of you as quickly as possible."

"I was just so grateful he was alive," Alec tells her. "No one could tell me if he was still in the Institute, and I couldn't find him anywhere, and then I started imagining what could have happened with him, and none of them were good things-"

"Alec." Isabelle squeezes his hand gently.

Alec takes a deep sip of his coffee, not minding the slight burn as he swallows. "I know, none of it did happen. But it _could_ have, Iz, and that - I've never been that scared before. I felt numb and shaky and I couldn't order my thoughts enough for any of them to make sense and I just felt - helpless."

Isabelle smiles sympathetically. "And of course, as Lightwoods, feeling helpless is unthinkable."

"Exactly." Alec nods, grateful that his sister gets it, gets _him._ No judgement.

"If it helps," Isabelle traces a black-painted finger around the rim of her mug. "I'm certain that Magnus was just as worried."

Alec stares into the swirling darkness of his drink. "He seemed that way. Not that we spent much time talking about such negative content, last night."

"Oh?" Isabelle raises a curious eyebrow.

Heat flares up Alec's cheeks. "We talked about other things," He explains before Isabelle's mind can drift to inappropriate places. "Actually, that's pretty much all we did."

"Talk?"

"Yeah," Alec's sure his ears are red by this point. "And, you know ... kiss, a bit." He clears his throat at Isabelle's bright and amused expression. She's enjoying this far too much for his comfort.

He takes another sip from his coffe, more for stalling than rejuvenation. Isabelle's watching him ... she probably knows there's something he hasn't told her. Or, perhaps, she's just surprised that he admitted what he did. He's not usually so forthcoming with personal information, let alone about his relationship, and certainly not without encouraged pressing on the matter.

There's no real need for him to keep this from Isabelle. She'll find out anyway, despite how hard he might try and prevent it, and the more satisfying thing would definitely be telling her straight-up.

He doesn't want to live a life of secrecy anymore, either. He's had enough of keeping things inside that are important, he hid himself for the majority of two decades, he's worked far too hard to get past that, to let it drag himself under again.

He can't shout it from the rooftop of the Institute. He can at least tell his own sister.

"I told Magnus I love him."

The pure surprise that takes over Isabelle's face is more satisfying than Alec had expected. He fidgets with the handle of his mug, watching the emotions flicker across her face as the weight of his words sink in.

"And," Alec glances up, smiling despite his best effort not to. "He said it back."

Isabelle squeals, and Alec is thankfully smart, and quick enough, to turn just as she hops off the stool and practically lunges towards him. He catches her, her arms wrapped around her tightly, still squealing in a banshee's pitch.

"Iz," He pats her back. "I'm just here, not Idris."

"Sorry," Isabelle pulls back, keeping her hands on his arms. She's studying him with a steel gaze, lips pressed together in a firm line. "This only happened yesterday?"

Alec frowns. "Yes, yesterday. We hugged, and I told him I loved him."

"And you meant it?"

Alec's eyes widen sharply. "What kind of - of course I meant it! I wouldn't have said it if I didn't."

Isabelle waits, watches, blinks. And then she just, smiles. "Good."

Alec shakes his head in confusion. He knows it's smart to let it slip by, his sister's motives often more complex than he's able to understand, but this is about him, and Magnus, and he doesn't want to brush it aside just because it would be the easier option.

"Why would you ask if I meant it?"

Isabelle looks sheepish, but there's a determined glint in her eyes, a fierceness in the way she straightens up - she stands by her actions. "People often say things in the heat of the moment, that they consider taking back once the adrenaline has left their system. I just wanted to make sure that wasn't happening."

Alec smirks, fondly. "Considering how often we've said it since, I don't think it was a heat-of-the-moment thing."

Isabelle punches his shoulder lightly, a blinding grin on her face. "Good. I'm very happy for you, Alec. You deserve this."

Alec doesn't reply, because a part of him is prepared to refute her statement, and he doesn't want to ruin this nice moment they're having. Instead, he feigns a scowl for all of a second before letting his happiness leak into his smile, knowing he probably won't be able to stop it even if he tried.

"Do you want to spar?" He asks. "Or are you banned?"

He knows she went to the infirmary the night before, he's the one who basically pushed her through the doors. She was given some fizzing orange thing to drink, and has been placed on a strict diet full of small, and - in her words bland - meals for the next week, so her immune system can build back up after the shocking impact of the _yin fen._ And the Silent Brothers - those who are left - are supposed to be coming in sometime soon to look over her, and others still in the infirmary. She probably isn't really supposed to have coffee, but he's not about to take it off her.

Isabelle scrunches up her nose. "I'm not supposed to do 'strenous physical activity' and I've been kept off missions and patrol for the next week, at least. Though, with what happened last night, I wouldn't be surprised if that was conveniently forgotten..."

Alec rolls his eyes, fondly. She used physical quotation marks and everything, just to accentuate her point further. "Help me spar, then." He suggests, knowing he won't be allowed in the training room without her, and besides, he feels horrible for what happened - he needs to seriously up his older-brother commitments.

"Alec, you haven't needed my help since you were fifteen."

Alec sighs, reaching for her hand, and squeezing it. "The only thing I have left, Iz, is sneaking out to Central Park, taking a bunch of pictures of ducks and sending them all to Jace labelled as IMPORTANT and URGENT."

Isabelle's entire face lights up. "That sounds like fun, let's do that."

"Iz," Alec shakes his head. "I'm sorry for how I treated you, I should have picked up on something. I was too focused on myself and my own problems, and I should have known that something was wrong. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, big brother." Isabelle smiles and it's like pure sunshine. Like when they were kids, and she'd run into his room at the crack of dawn, jump on his bed and shake his shoulders until he woke up, because she couldn't stand being awake if he and Jace weren't.

"I got myself in that situation. I had the chance to tell you, to tell anyone, and I didn't."

Alec feels fury rising up inside him. "Aldertree knew." He states. "He's the one who gave it to you, he could have stopped this. He's the reason it happened in the first place."

Isabelle squeezes his hand. "Let's not focus on the negative," Her eyes are wide and imploring. "You can go spar, I'll head down to the lab and check up on the recent reports. We'll do lunch together. Just you and me."

Alec nods. "Lunch sounds good." He wishes he could do more, but he respects his sister, and after the mistakes he's made, he's not about to dictate their plans. "I love you, Iz."

Isabelle leans forward and brushes a soft kiss against his cheek. "I know. I love you too, _hermano._ "

It's not enough of an apology, and Alec knows he has a lot of grovelling to do. For the time being, though, it's something - it's a stitch in the thread of their relationship, and if he's careful, it will all knit itself back together relatively smoothly, and things will be back to the way they were. Not exactly the same, but close enough.

 

* * *

 

_'But she's perfect enough without ever dressing up,'_

_-_

"Mags?"

Alec shuts the door to the loft slowly. It had swung open before he'd even knocked, with a clear invitation to walk inside, but no sign of his boyfriend once he passed the threshold.

He's not worried, just - just curious.

"In the bedroom, darling, I'll be out in a minute." Magnus calls out, his voice as warm as ever. It's comforting, both after his long day and the frankly exhausting week, to come here to something so familiar.

Alec drops his bow and quiver by the door, toeing off his boots as smoothly as he can, which is only slightly, and lines them up next to his weapons. He still has a seraph blade in it's holster on his leg, plus daggers strapped to his ankles and his stele is in his pocket - partially because he likes to be prepared, but also because ... well, he doesn't know if Magnus has anything planned, and if they end up going to whichever country Magnus is determined to show him next, he doesn't want to hold them up by having to gear himself up again.

Although - based on Magnus' current appearance, it seems like country-hopping is out of the question. Not that Alec knows a lot about fashion - but last time he checked, Magnus usually prefers to dress up when he goes out.

It's not that Magnus doesn't look good - he always looks beautiful. It's that, well, he's not exactly dressed to go out anywhere.

He's wearing a silk black robe with gold and red dragons stitched into the fabric, no sparkling jewelry in sight, nor even a speck of glitter on his face, his hair fluffy and falling around his face in soft cascades. He's, well, _delicate_ and warm and he's smiling humbly like he's pleased by Alec's presence alone.

Alec's fingers twitch by his sides, nails grazing the flesh of his palm, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" He asks. "The door opened, so I assumed that everything was okay-"

Magnus waves a dismissive hand, his eyes alight and sparkling. "I had just stepped out of the bathroom." Magnus tilts his head. "I can get changed if you're interested in going somewhere."

Alec frowns. "But you've just taken it all off," He hesitates, before adding: "I mean, it's up to you, what you do with, you know, your own - face - but you don't have to get dressed up. I'm happy to stay in ... I just wanted to see you."

A look that can only be described as awe crosses Magnus' face. "Let's stay in, then." He takes a few, languid steps forward. "You wanted to see me?"

He's teasing. Alec knows he's teasing. "Yeah."

He meets Magnus at the juncture of the living room, his hand reaching out to slip his fingers through Magnus' hair, brushing the tips against his neck. It's actually _softer_ than it looks. "I know it was only a few hours, and it's not like I was alone today, but - I missed you."

Magnus' eyes narrow the slightest bit, barely noticeable, were Alec not paying close attention. He hasn't seen Magnus without makeup that often, but every time he does, he feels honoured. He knows that makeup is important to Magnus, it's something he enjoys and has cultivated a skill for over the years, but it's more than just a hobby - he's deliberate in how he styles his look, and seeing Magnus without it, is truly seeing him in a vulnerable position.

It's naked and intimate and Alec is aware of how lucky he is to be so privileged.

"I missed you, too." Magnus admits, quietly. He reaches out, sliding his hands up Alec's arms to his shoulders, sending sparks at each point of contact, before wrapping around his neck loosely.

"With everything going on," Alec's teeth press against his bottom lip nervously. "I didn't want to bother you. I know you were probably really busy all day, and obviously there are more important things going on-"

"Alexander." Magnus' voice hardens. Alec's gaze flickers sheepishly, but he returns Magnus' eye contact. "I've told you before. Our relationship is a priority to me - I've seen many wars in my time, and none of them have ever been worth the cost. If we must fight this ridiculous war against Valentine, there has to be something worth fighting for."

"You think our relationship is worth fighting for?" Alec asks - he knows it's a stupid question, but he needs it answered, before his doubt leaks in and fills the gap for him.

Magnus rubs his thumb along the back of Alec's neck. "I think our relationship is worth fighting for, yes. But you, Alec," He leans forward, until his nose brushes against Alec's. Their eyes lock, and Magnus slowly, and deliberately, let's his glamour drop. "You are worth everything."

Alec re-positions his hands so they're gripping Magnus' waist, though the silk slips a litle, and then tugs Magnus forward and presses a firm kiss to Magnus' mouth, almost bruising in it's passion. He has no words appropriate or extensive enough to express how deeply he feels, to match what Magnus has said to him, to explain that he would do anything for Magnus, he wouldn't even have to ask.

So he pours it all into the kiss instead, because actions have always spoken louder for him than words, and at least this is something he can control.

A slight gasp escapes from Magnus, which only spurs Alec on. He grips Magnus' waist tighter, his fingers curling into the fabric of Magnus' robe, his foot stepping the slightest inch forward so that any possible space between them is eliminated. Magnus responds eagerly, his mouth persistent and hot, his hands holding Alec in place, not that Alec is even considering moving away any time soon, if at all, really.

Magnus pulls back, after a moment, and Alec is only slightly embarrassed by the low keening noise that sounds in his throat. Magnus smirks, but it's gentle and fond. "I was just about to suggest we move somewhere a little more comfortable,"

"Right," Alec nods, because that makes perfect sense, the movement causing his nose to brush against Magnus'.

Magnus sighs, his mouth twitching into a slightly exasperated smile. Alec, expecting his boyfriend to pull away, is startled when Magnus' warm lips envelope his. Trust Magnus to tease him and then do exactly what Alec had been attempting in the first place, just to fluster him. Alec bites instinctively on Magnus' bottom lip, soothing it over with his tongue before pulling back, smirking proudly.

Magnus pulls one hand back, smoothing his thumb over his bottom lip, cat-eyes dark and gleaming, the corners crinkled in betrayal of his true feelings. "Touche," He whispers.

He takes Alec's hand, and tugs him over towards the couch, Alec's own hands grasping at any part of Magnus they can reach, his arm, his waist, the slip of silk holding his robe together. They fall onto the couch with grace, surprising for Alec but expected for Magnus, and their lips find each other within seconds.

It's slow and relaxed and familiar, though Alec's skin is sparking and every point of contact burns, and his heart is pumping pleasantly behind his ribs. He'd been under the impression that the more experience he had kissing, the less nervous he'd be about it - he feels more comfortable now than he did the first time, but he still has thrills racing down his spine with each curve of Magnus' lips against his, and no kiss is the same as the others.

It's always new and exciting and different and truly thrilling.

Alec would feel odd about it, if he didn't know that Magnus feels the same. He'd literally said as much, after Alec had expressed his concerns about, essentially, being inadequate in relation to Magnus' own experience.

 _"No relationship is the same as another,"_ Magnus had explained. _"It's probable, Alexander, that anything you are feeling, I am too. You're concerned because you have never done this before._ I _am concerned, because I want to make this as good as possible, for you. Because I am your first, and your first should be perfect."_

Alec, being under the firm impression that Magnus is the closest realistic thing to perfect, had surged forward and whispered in Magnus' ear, that he's doing a wonderful job, because it was, at the time, the most reassuring thing he could think of.

Alec pulls back, thumb grazing Magnus' cheek. Magnus' eyes are still closed, his eyelashes casting shadows down his cheeks, his golden skin clear and surprisingly shining considering the lack of product on his person.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Magnus' voice breaks the silence, though he still hasn't opened his eyes.

A teasing smile quirks the corner of his mouth, and Alec has to swallow and order aforementioned thoughts, considering he does have a response in mind that doesn't necessarily involve kissing that specific part of Magnus' mouth.

"I'm just," Alec pauses, wanting to express himself articulately, considering the eloquence that Magnus constantly carries himself with. "A little, new, to seeing you without makeup. It's nice, you look - well..."

Magnus' eyelids flutter open, amusement dancing in the gold light. Alec relaxes, grateful that Magnus understands his struggle for what it truly is. A quest to explain what he's thinking with actual words.

"Beautiful," Alec exhales.

Magnus blinks, thrown off a fraction. Alec, suddenly emboldened, tucks a wayward spike of hair behind Magnus' ear, his finger grazing along the shell. Magnus isn't wearing his cuff. Alec knows it makes sense, considering that he isn't wearing any other piece of jewelry, but it startles him for a moment - no silver piece hooked along his ear, sparkling and glinting. His hand brushes along the curve of Magnus' neck, down to his collarbone, again - bare.

It's not like Alec has never seen Magnus without jewelry before. It's just, each time feels like a rare and exciting moment, and he has to cherish every second like it's a new experience, or it will just be - wasted.

"That's not to say that you don't look beautiful with," Alec inclines his head slightly. "Everything on. You're just, beautiful, without it, too."

A small crease furrows between Magnus' eyes, and Alec feels like he's being studied, but he doesn't mind - it's not scrutinising, rather ... _appraising_. Surprised.

"I've always wondered," Magnus admits, aloud and somewhat distant. "You never say anything, but you - you get this look..."

"A look?" Alec echoes, preferring to skip over the 'never say anything', because he knows as well as anyone else how terrible he is at words.

"An indecipherable glaze," Magnus tucks his fingers under Alec's chin, tilting his head slightly. "I've come to recognise a few things, in your actions or small behavioural quirks, but then you look at me-" Alec blinks, and for some odd reason Magnus laughs. "Well, like _that,_ and I'm shaken and unsure."

Alec curls his hand around Magnus' neck, surprised at hearing _he_ makes Magnus unsure, considering how long he's spent shaking on unstable ground in the warlock's presence.

"How do I look at you?" Alec asks.

Magnus leans forward, brushing his nose against Alec's, his hand curving until it's cradling Alec's jaw. His breath is warm and ghosting, his lips bumping against Alec's with each pronounced word. "Like you've found something worth cherishing," He whispers. "The meaning of life, the secrets of the universe, the source of true happiness. Anything and everything worth noting."

Alec shakes his head, the barest movement. "I just see, you." He explains, though it feels inadequate comparing to what Magnus has just said. "Magnus. The man who showed me fatty tuna and hustled me at pool and taught me how to love. The man who has become such a big part of my life, I'm not sure what I'd do without you in it."

It's the truth, plain and simple, the only way he knows how to talk. Magnus blinks fluttering eyelashes, and then closes the distance between them slowly, achingly slowly, so that when their lips finally touch it feels like quenching a thirst in the driest part of the Sahara desert.

It's smooth and intimate and Alec gasps almost desperately into Magnus' parted lips because he can't press close enough to satiate his desires, he could be beneath Magnus' skin and it still wouldn't be close enough. In a swift and fortunately smooth gesture, he swings himself onto Magnus' lap, hands grasping firmly at Magnus' shoulder in the name of preventing any toppling - and because silk is a very thin fabric, and does little as a layer between his hand and Magnus' skin, and Alec is but a man.

"Where is this from?" He asks, after a moment, when his lips have gravitated towards Magnus' jaw, his hand slipping beneath the top of Magnus' robe. "The robe. It's ... really nice."

He's toying with the edge, peppering kisses down Magnus' neck. Magnus laughs, the sound reverberating through his chest, his hands snuck up beneath Alec's shirt, splayed against his back. His fingers press into the ridges of Alec's spine, with an erratic persistence, like even he is struggling to keep himself in check.

"Paris?" Magnus tilts his head, exposing his neck for Alec. Alec hums against the crook of his shoulder, nipping gently at the soft skin.

"Is that a question?"

"I'm a little preoccupied, Alexander." Magnus gasps sharply, teeth pressing into his bottom lip, hands tightening instinctively against Alec's back. Alec's hand slips down, toying with the silk belt of Magnus' robe.

"Well, obviously you don't care much about it," Alec ventures, his attention diverted to the hollow of Magnus' neck, breathing in the sandalwood and lavendar soap and underlying heady scent that is purely Magnus, something between fireworks and burnt sugar and another thing entirely undefinable but purely tantalising.

"Not as much as I care about this, no." In a motion so fluid Alec is sure it's completed with magic, Magnus removes Alec's shirt, the air cool against Alec's bare back. He presses himself impossibly close to Magnus, chasing the warmth that his body brings, that his entire presence exudes.

"Mind if I take care of it?" Alec slowly peels the front of Magnus' robe to the side, exposing a gleaming strip of Magnus' chest. It hits him, then, sudden and all at once, that there is nothing beneath this robe.

It's thrilling and nerve-wracking and Alec just wants to get rid of it before he can change his own mind.

"Be my guest."

 

* * *

 

_'Dirty laundry, is piling in her room. She's got her secrets, yeah, I got mine too.'_

_-_

A few days later, they're curled up on the couch of the balcony, comfortable in each other's presence and the serenity of a New York evening with no plans laid before them, and endless possibility stretching out.

It's refreshing, to not be tied down, by obligations or expectations or anything. They're able to do whatever they'd like, or nothing at all, if that is what takes their fancy. Their evening is free and open and Alec, for one, is relishing in it.

It feels like the kind of time where secrets are meant to be revealed - they've been down that road before, but Alec likes the idea of completely opening himself up to Magnus, and at least part of Magnus being open to Alec in reurn. He's not expecting everything, just something, a part of him he feels comfortable sharing, that will bring them closer.

Magnus has already carved out a space inside of Alec's heart, a little groove where he sits perfectly, a space made just for him. The selfish part of Alec, the bit that Magnus keeps telling him to indulge in, wants to have his own space inside of _Magnus'_ heart, too, his own personal pocket.

"How old were you when you first fell in love?"

It's not a question he planned on asking, but it is, however, one he's interested in the answer of. He's come to terms, mostly, with the fact that he isn't the first that Magnus has been with, and realistically, he probably won't be the last. Magnus lives in the present, though, and Alec _is_ part of the present, and surely that affords him some room for discussion.

Besides, he's curious. Magnus is the first person he's ever loved, but there was obviously people before him, and he's intrigued by what it was like. Was it scary, or fun, or the best thing to ever happen to him? Was it the same experience as Alec's, or was it different? Is every first love supposed to feel like this? Are there certain expectations for love?

He doesn't know, but Magnus probably does.

Magnus blinks at him, curiously, twining their fingers together loosely. There's a query in his eyes, but Alec is nothing if not persistent, and he's not about to back down. He smiles, kindly, and presses a kiss to the back of Magnus' hand, patience gracing his body language. Obviously, if Magnus is uncomfortable, he'll let it go.

The thing is, though - Magnus doesn't look uncomfortable - rather, hesitant, cautious, as though he doesn't want to upset Alec. The same look he got when Alec promised him that he's in this for the long haul.

Alec has gotten considerably better at reading Magnus in the time they've known each other, but there's always a niggling seed of doubt in the darkest corners of his mind, that he isn't right, that he's misjudged what he thinks he's seen.

Magnus inclines his head, and then he smiles warmly, albeit a little surprised too. He squeezes Alec's hand, their elbows tucked together.

"Fifteen."

Alec frowns. "Fifteen? That's ... young."

Any time he has considered the idea of Magnus' first love, he isn't that _young_. He's, older - not widely so, but considerably; twenties, at least. Experienced and travelled and worldly. Alec was in love - or rather, under the impression of being in love, with _Jace_ when he was fifteen. To think the same thing happened to Magnus is - unsettling, but also human, in a weird way.

Magnus laughs warmly. "I didn't feel it, at the time. I felt invincible."

"Would you," Alec decides that pushing on through is the best course of action. "Would you mind, telling me about them?"

Magnus looks torn, and Alec is prepared to dismiss the entire discussion, suggest they watch a movie or portal to Romania, or just something to change the road of questioning. And then Magnus smiles in a giddy, distant way and Alec thinks that maybe asking was okay.

"Her name was Marisol, and she was beautiful. Her personality shone through her like rays of sunshine and she had the biggest heart of anyone I had met at that point in my life. She was a few years older than me, from the village over - I was in Spain with the Silent Brothers."

Alec knows a little about Magnus' time with the Silent Brothers, how they taught him to use his magic, but they were very constrictive and controlling and only burnt him out in their attempt to help, because they're instinctively oppossed to magic that isn't contained within runes. Alec had taken a chilling moment to reflect on his own interal inclinations and had a torturously introspective few hours. He has a lot of re-learning to do. He's not entirely there yet, but he's working on it.

"How did you two meet?" Alec asks, softly.

Magnus smiles wistfully. "She sold me a fig." He shifts, so that his legs are entwined with Alec's, his shoulder pressed tightly against Alec's firm arm. "It was a silly thing - the moment, not the fig, the fig was delicious."

Alec smiles fondly. He likes hearing about Magnus' past.

"I'd run from the cathedral the Silent Brothers were holding me in, needing an escape from it all, and she was at a stall. Her parents owned a small patch of land where they grew seasonal fruits and vegetables - I doubt I have ever tasted anything as delicious before."

Alec brushes his thumb along Magnus' knuckles. "Could it have been because you were in love?"

Magnus feigns a glare, but it's half-hearted, the teasing note of Alec's tone clearly carrying through. "It could have been anything, Alec, I was fact that it didn't have to be earned was good enough for me."

"How did you get the money for it?"

Magnus shrugs. Alec narrows his eyes, amusement tugging at his mouth despite his best efforts to stifle it. He stares, determined to keep going until Magnus gives in, because Alec can tell that he's about to - he has that mischevious twinkle in his eye that Alec has come to understand means interesting things.

"I was a teenager under the strict, borderline abusive and soul-breaking 'care' of those called Gregori at the time. They were teaching me to practise magic, Alexander. Is it truly my fault if I practised by conjuring coins and spending them on seeded treats?"

Alec huffs out a gentle laugh. "I suppose not."

Magnus smirks. "Exactly." He shifts, glancing down at their joined hands. "You're strangely curious about all of this."

"Is it a problem?"

"No," Magnus glances up, tight and wonderstruck. "It's - no one has ever asked me about my past relationships before, let alone the first person I ever fell in love with. You're constantly surprising me, Alexander, and it's something I am still getting used to."

Alec, at a loss as to what to say in response to that, leans forward and presses a tender kiss to Magnus' cheek. He pulls back, winded by the shining adoration in Magnus' eyes.

"I may have loved her," Magnus whispers. "She may have been my first, she may have shaken the very ground I walked on, and there may have been people after her. But there is _no one,_ not a single person whom I have loved as much as you."

Alec can feel burning tears pricking at his eyes, a flush creeping up his cheeks and the world's biggest smiling stretching his lips. "That sounds impossible."

"I know," Magnus smiles, open and exaltated, his eyes glittering like the stars above their heads. "And yet, it is. _As long as we can see the same sky, breathe the same air, step on the same planet, then you and I are not impossible._ "

"Who said that?" Alec asks, focusing on the curious and not the tears he has to blink back.

"I did," Magnus smirks, the corners weak. "Just then."

Alec rolls his eyes, betrayed by the fondness coursing through him. "I love you," He whispers, because it's the only thing that feels remotely adequate.

Magnus' face actually lights up, ecstasy shining from him like moonlight, bright and ethereal and utterly beautiful. It's almost too much to handle. "I love you, too." Magnus shakes his head just slightly, like he's surprised at himself. "I meant it, Alexander. It's shocking even to me, but I've never loved anyone this much. You've shot into my orbit and shaken my world and now the stars have aligned and everything is perfect."

He frowns, and then on reflection, adds: "Okay, maybe not perfect. But certainly close to it."

"How do you do that?" Alec asks, bordering on exasperation. "Speak so eloquently and all - you know, magical and nice so that my heart skips in my chest and I'm all breatheless and speechless and-"

Magnus cuts him off with a firm kiss, which Alec immediately melts into because he's human and not strong enough to resist Magnus' charms on a good day, let alone in a moment like this. By the time they have enough sense to pull back, Alec's chest is heaving and hurting from the amount of beating his heart has done, his skin sparking, lips tingling and pink.

"Sometimes words are intrusive," Magnus whispers. "I think you've got the right idea with your whole 'actions speak louder' tendencies."

"But words-"

"Aren't as fun," Magnus's lips brush against Alec's with each round syllable. "As certain actions I know you're fond of."

"I'm fond of a lot of things," Alec admits, his nose bumping Magnus'. "Archery. Coffee. Puppies are kind of cute."

"Anything else?"

"Hm," Alec pretends to think about it. "My siblings, they're included in that, naturally. Oh, and you, of course."

"Nice to hear I make your list," Magnus quips, dropping a kiss onto Alec's nose.

Alec wonders if his eyes are glittering like Magnus'. He wouldn't be too surprised. "You're pretty high up, if that makes you feel better."

"How high up?" Magnus asks.

It's probably not appropriate for Alec to comment about how he's pulling for compliments. Even if he's thinking it. "Telling you wouldn't be fair."

Magnus kisses the bridge of Alec's nose. "To whom? The cute puppies?"

"No, to my siblings." Alec explains. Magnus isn't making this easy on him which, sure, is the point, but still. He can't get his words out when Magnus is just softly peppering his face with kisses.

"Am I higher?" Magnus smirks. "Because I think they'd be upset if I was."

"I thought words were intrusive?" Alec echoes Magnus' earlier statement. "You seem to be admiring their involvement now."

"I'm admiring the pink of your cheeks when you're flustered." Alec isn't really sure what Magnus is talking about, the colour in his cheeks is perfectly controlled, he's fine. "It's rather sweet."

"Are you done admiring it, now?" Alec asks - pleads, really. He can admit to himself. He's pleading, earnest, borderline desperate because Magnus' lips are too close to his face for them to not be touching his own mouth.

"Never," Magnus shrugs in a barely perceptible movement. "But I guess I can put it on hold, in the name of more productive things. There's always time to admire those flushed cheeks later."

Alec can feel aforementioned cheeks heating with ardour. "Shut up and kiss me already."

"With pleasure."

And then, like the good and wonderful boyfriend he is, Magnus willingly obliges.

 

* * *

 

_'I don't care about what you did, only care about what we do.'_

_-_

"I know you're in love and everything, but do you have to be so damn sappy?"

Alec fixes Jace with an unimpressed glare, his thumb hovering above the keyboard of his phone. Magnus had just texted him a photo of a bubbling and frighteningly pink cauldron expressing his distate at stupid mundane clients who don't understand that when he says a potion will take fourteen hours they can't have it in six.

"Excuse me?"

Jace shrugs. "Look, I'm happy for you, but it's gross."

Alec bites back a retort about the puppy-dog-looks Jace sends in Clary's directions any time she even enters the room, because he's the bigger person and it's far more satisfying to return his attention to his phone.

Jace hasn't told Clary the truth yet, though it's been a couple of weeks and Alec has repeatedly prompted him to. Jace claims that it's best to wait, with Valentine still being interrogated by the Clave, and her relationship with Simon progressing steadily, he doesn't want to shock Clary's system with the news.

Alec personally thinks he's just scared, that he doesn't want to rock the boat, which only proves how much he does care for Clary, because one of Jace's favourite things to do is rock the boat.

Alec replies with fond sympathy and a string of emoji's he thinks make sense - he doesn't use emoji's ... ever, but he knows that Magnus likes them and considering his intent is to cheer his boyfriend up, he thinks it's only fair to give them a chance. He feels a little ridiculous, but then Magnus replies with a giddy smiling shot, and Alec thinks that emoji's might be worth the complications.

"Have you spoken to Lydia recently?" Jace asks.

Alec looks up, sliding his phone into his pocket. They're supposed to be looking over patrol reports, into old files on the Circle's behaviour, as Valentine's loyal following have been causing a stir around the city in what presumably is supposed to be retaliation for having their leader captured, but to the surprise of neither Jace nor Alec, they've headed down a wayward discourse.

"Uh, yeah - yesterday." Lydia's been recalled to Alicante, to aid with the unrest of the city due to Shadowhunters hearing wind of Valentine's return. She's very enthusiastic about it, naturally. "Inqusitor Herondale has her working on public relations, which I'm sure you can tell she's very thrilled about."

Jace grins. "I think Lydia enjoys conversing with other people about as much as you do."

"I don't like smalltalk," Alec shrugs. "It doesn't have a purpose. It's tedious and ridiculous." He shakes his head, annoyed at being drawn off-topic. "She's meeting with Aline tomorrow, apparently her mother, Jia, is about to run for Consul, and Aline is trying to get transferred here. I think she's planning on using 'experience' as a persuasive factor."

Jace hums. They've known Aline since they were young, their only friend when Maryse and Robert dragged them to Idris - knowing the truth behind the visits, their parents attempt to increase favour with the Clave, only slightly taints the memories. They're as close as cousins, really, and it's been an unfortunate while since they've seen her.

"Hey, uh-" Jace is staring intently at the file in front of him, one hand rubbing nervously at his chin. "How well does Magnus know Camille Belcourt?"

Alec clears his throat, swallowing back the sour taste that taints his mouth. "His ex? Pretty well, I think. Though he's not too fond of her, last I checked, considering she broke his heart and everything."

Jace glances up, eyes wide. "There's been sign of her hanging around Los Angeles."

Alec's eyes narrow. "Such as?" He really doesn't like where this is going.

"Bodies with harshly slit throats in careless throwaway piles scattered around Santa Monica and Long Beach." Jace lifts up the file, gesturing towards it pointedly. "Sounds like her, doesn't it?"

Alec groans. "I hate her. I actually hate her. What the hell is she doing in LA?"

"I don't know, and I'm not sure I want to. It's not our problem, technically, as it's under the Los Angeles Institute's jurisdiction, but we might be called in for consultation if it is her, because - well, we have a history with her."

Alec shudders. He glares at the back of the file in Jace's hands so long that he's surprised a hole isn't burnt into it by the time he manages to drag his eyes back up. "I'll call Andrew Blackthorn, later. I know he's going through some things at the moment, but he's still Head of the Institute and he'll probably want as much information as we have."

Jace nods, handing the file over. "You'll want this. Maybe, when you send the files over - because you'll have to - we can send over some, I don't know, flowers or something."

Andrew Blackthorn's wife, Eleanour, is sick. Last they heard, the Silent Brothers were being brought in to look her over, as well as the local warlock Malcolm Fade, because they're a little more relaxed in California in regards to Downworlder relations, but no there's been no news as to what is wrong.

"Yeah, well, I doubt Mom would have thought of that." Alec admits sourly. It doesn't directly correlate to her, so she wouldn't consider it. "I'll ask Iz to, she's far better at picking out condolence gifts than I am, and then I can focus on forwarding the appropriate information."

"You should probably contact the Head of the vampire clan, too." Jace suggests, picking up the next pile. He'd volunteered to help Alec, knowing how tedious the task can be, and - Alec thinks - so that he can avoid Clary for a few hours. "Nightshade might know about Camille's ... predelictions, and offer to help."

"Or help her hide," Alec points out. Even the sight of Camille's face sends sharp arrows of hate through his heart. "Vampires can be very unpredictable. Just because they align with their clan members, doesn't mean they align with other vampires. However, if it concerns Shadowhunters, I imagine all rules go out the window."

Jace rolls his eyes. "Shadow World politics bore me. And they make absolutely no sense." His eyes narrow, slightly, and then he looks up with a hard and confused gaze. "Did you know that Magnus is banned from Peru?"

"Banned?" Alec echoes. "From _Peru_?"

Jace nods, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "For life, apparently. According to the transcript from the High Council of Peruvian Warlocks - because, you know, _that_ exists - he is banned "on pain of death ... for crimes unspeakable". Wow, he must have done something pretty horrible."

Jace, it seems, doesn't have a radar for Alec's heated glare. "To be fair," He continues. "His ban was offically enforced in the 1960s, he could have done any number of things that warranted being banned."

"What on Earth are you doing with my boyfriend's file?" Alec raises a stern eyebrow. "I doubt he has anything to do with the slaughter of mundanes in California."

"It was waiting with the rest of them," Jace explains. "Raj included the ones he thought would be most essential, apparently Magnus is important."

"That," Alec scowls. "Or Raj is just negatively predisposed towards my boyfriend. In case it's escaped your notice, he does take after Mom a fair bit in his views."

"And he has a crush on you," Jace states off-handedly, flicking casually through Magnus' file - which is startingly thick.

"What?"

Jace frowns. "Raj," He states slowly. "Has a crush on you. I thought you - you didn't know that?"

"Raj doesn't-" Alec shakes his head. "No."

_No._

"I think it mainly comes from a professional standpoint," Jace scrunches up his nose in much the same way that Isabelle does when she's concentrating. "You being a leader and his superior and everything - he probably has a competence kink."

"By the Angel," Alec groans, rubbing a hand over his face. "Please _never_ utter those words in front of me again."

He pushes his chair back, wishing he could burn the past five minutes from his memories. Besides, Jace is very, _very_ wrong. There's no way Raj, of all people, has a crush on him. He just wants favour with the Clave, and with Maryse and Aldertree, and has decided that Alec will help him with that, or something.

It's not a crush.

Alec scoops up a bunch of files, deliberately plucking Magnus' file from Jace's hand with a stern glare. "You're projecting," He states, though Jace doesn't look nearly as upset as he probably should. "Have you heard half the things Raj utters about women? Notice he's never mentioned men in any similiar way? He's more heterosexual than _you_."

Jace raises an offended hand to his chest. "I am very heterosexual, thank you very much. Magnus could tell you that, he had a personal viewing when I was living over at his."

"Hm. You know," Alec quirks a sarcastic eyebrow. "Simon told me you held his hand once."

The colour leaks from Jace's face, defensive irritation flashing in his eyes. He scrambles, his mouth parting and closing, and Alec knows it's a little harsh, but it gives him a shot of satisfaction, because he's almost gotten back at Jace.

"Since when do you talk to Simon?" Jace asks, after a scattered moment.

"You know what Simon is like. He talks without considering if someone is actually listening." Alec sighs. "I have to sort these out, and I should probably contact Lily Chen about the vampire issue. You're on patrol tonight with Iz, if you see anything important call me, okay?"

"I thought you and Magnus have a date tonight?" Jace asks, looking at him with a slightly mocking impression of Alec's older-brother-stare.

"We do," Alec says slowly. "But with everything going on ... if you find out something, I want you to call me."

"You know, it's okay to put yourself first, every now and then."

Jace is trying to help, and Alec gets that. But the Soul Sword is still missing, they have an entire task force sent from Idris to locate it and Valentine is spilling nothing.

"I have my priorities," He states sharply. "And you have your orders."

He sweeps out of the room without another word, Jace's comments echoing around the corners of his mind. From Camille to Magnus, to Raj and then Magnus again - a carousel of frustrating topics that leave him wanting to tear his hair out. And that's just his personal life.

Add onto that the whole entire fiasco with Valentine and his following, and Alec isn't sure how anyone is supposed to be expected to have a personal life in these times, let alone with what he has to worry about under his jurisdiction. His parents are gone, Aldertree has been relocated to deal with other things because the Clave don't have the resources to let him go, despite the proof of what he's done, and Lydia, the only other person with experience in leadership that he can rely on, has been moved away for the Clave's own purposes.

It feels like he's been tasked with protecting the entirety of New York by himself, he has to make all of the decisions, if something goes wrong it's _his fault_ \- he likes being Head of the Institute, he likes the order and the purpose, but he's been thrown into this and he's scrambling.

Alec isn't stupid, he knows that he can't do this by himself. He also can't, however, expect other people to do his job for him, and if that means picking up the workload, than that is what he has to do.

They're at war. Sacrifices must be made.

_There will always be a war. That doesn't mean you have to stop granting time for things you care about._

Alec isn't sure when Magnus became the voice of his inner conscious. Though, his inner conscious does have a point.

 

* * *

 

 

"Hello, darling."

It's a credit to Alec's shadowhunter abilities that he doesn't fall off his chair. As it is, his heart is beating furiously behind his ribcage, skin thrumming with electricity, only partly from Magnus' sudden appearance into his bedroom.

He's been on edge all evening, so much so that he'd almost forgotten about their plans. Guilty doesn't even begin to describe how he feels.

"You have your own personal portal here?" He asks, instead, because endless apologies would be reduntant and waved off anyway.

Magnus closes the portal behind him and shrugs, with the grace of looking a tad sheepish. "Perhaps."

"When did you - actually, I'm not sure I want to know." Alec shakes his head, smiling despite himself.

"I may have made a loophole for myself," Magnus admits quietly. "But, if it's any consolation, it is only for me." He drops a sultry wink. "And only into your room."

Alec shakes his head fondly, turning in his chair. "Just, give me a second? I kind of lost track of time, I mean, I'm not even dressed yet."

He's still in sweatpants and a tank from training earlier, not really having the motivation to change, considering he knew he'd only end up changing for their date later. Now, later has come and he hasn't got changed and things are kind of slowly falling apart.

"We can always stay in," Magnus offers. "We wouldn't even have to leave the room."

Alec rolls his eyes, turning back to his files. "That sounds great," He sighs. "Except I'm starving and there's no food here - not to point out the glitch in your otherwise flawless plan or anything."

Like a shift in his universe, he feels Magnus step closer. Alec attempts to pull a new file over the original he'd actually been looking at, with as subtle and suave a move as he possibly can - which is to say not at all.

"Alexander?" Magnus sounds amused, and curious, but Alec still leans his arms over his files trying to hide them. "Is that my file?"

"Uh," Alec clears his throat. "Is it? I uh, I didn't notice."

Magnus laughs, warmly. He places a gentle kiss on Alec's forehead, his hand brushing back Alec's hair. His hand rests on Alec's shoulder, and it's a firm but not heavy presence.

"Find anything interesting?" Magnus asks, gazing down over Alec's shoulder.

"A few things." Alec glances up nervously. "You're not mad?"

"Curious," Magnus admits. "Not mad, no. What's brought you to my file?"

Alec runs a hand through his hair, leaning back in his seat. "Valentine's following are causing a stir. And, um-" He pauses, deliberating as to whether he tells Magnus that his crazy ex-girlfriend is currently on a slaughtering spree.

Magnus squeezes Alec's shoulders, rubbing his thumbs in small circles against the broad of Alec's neck. Alec leans back, eyes fluttering closed. His tension is still there, and he doubts it will dispel completely, but it's putting him in a situation more relaxed than he'd been all day.

Magnus tends to do that, though. Relax him.

He feels a little bad, about bringing the mood down, but it's only fair that he tells Magnus. He'd feel bad about keeping him out of the loop, and he did promise that he'd tell Magnus when things got crazy. There is little crazier than Camille Belcourt.

"Your, uh, your ex-girlfriend. Camille. She's on a rampage."

Magnus stills, his hands heavy weights on Alec's shoulders. "Not a sexual one, I presume."

Alec presses his lips together firmly. Magnus is covering his anger behind humour, and Alec knows that, but Magnus is a generally humorous person and it's not in good taste for Alec to laugh.

"There's been no confirmation," Alec bites his bottom lip, knowing he has to push the words out or he won't say them at all. "But - considering her, predeliction for messy deaths, we're pretty sure it's her. I'm sending word out to L.A, where the attacks are, as soon as I've compiled the relevant information. Hence the outdated hardcopy files."

Magnus sighs, low and raggard. Alec reaches a hand up, placing it over Magnus'. He doesn't say anything, for a moment, letting his presence and touch speak for itself. Only when the tension bleeding from Magnus eases, does Alec speak up.

"I was conflicted," He admits cautiously. "Over whether to tell you or not. Obviously, the case has nothing to do with you - or with us, really, the only reason we know about it is the similarities between what's happening now, and what happened when she was here."

Alec pauses. His work has never cut this close before, not in this way. Never so broad and yet so personal.

"We're going to do our best to stop her," Alec promises. "She's not your problem, though. Not anymore."

Magnus has told him about Camille, in his own way. How she left him behind, in London, while she went gallivanting off in Russia with a mortal lover. How she flirted with other people before his very eyes, with no care for how it hurt him, because she believed that love meant different things for those with immortality. How she teased and taunted him, how he loved her, truly loved her, but he was just her play-thing.

How she tore him down, piece by piece, and destroyed the very idea of love that he'd spent centuries building up. Camille is the reason Magnus closed himself off. Alec, somehow, has helped Magnus open up again, helped him dare to feel, to _love_ again. She doesn't deserve a fleeting thought, let alone Magnus' attention.

"I'll talk to my connections in California." Magnus states, his voice thin and hollow. "Anselm Nightshade is duplicitous but he isn't too fond of Camille, so he might have something on her. Malcolm Fade, the local warlock, is a romantic at heart, and naturally hates her views on love. He'd be just as hard-pressed to find her, I'm sure."

Alec turns his head, glancing up at Magnus. There's a hardness to his eyes that weakens when he glances at Alec, but his lips are still pressed together firmly and his entire body is rigid and solid.

"Thank you for telling me," Magnus' voice is surprisingly soft, given his hardened posture. "I know that you didn't have to, but I appreciate it nonetheless."

"So, it wasn't a bad thing?" Alec asks, hesitantly. "I know you have a less than ideal past with her, but I didn't think it was right to keep you in the dark."

"It's foolish to wish I could rid her of my life entirely." Magnus mutters cynically. "If there's anything I can do to help-"

"There isn't," Alec assures him, because he's dragged Magnus into this enough, he doesn't want to bring up a past Magnus has tried desperately to move on from. "Thank you, anyway."

Magnus smiles, and although it's small and hesitant it's still something. He leans down, brushing a kiss against Alec's cheek, the entire gesture sweet and heartwarming. Alec feels himself droop against his chair, most of the tension slowly draining from him.

"I found something, actually." Alec tries to keep his expression in check. "Something rather interesting. About you."

"Me?" Magnus' mouth quirks coyly. "You've been reading up about me?"

Alec doesn't mention that he'd skimmed Magnus' digital file after they'd met, after the thinly-veiled innuendo's and flirty remarks. To try and figure out who Magnus Bane really was, to understand the man behind the enigma.

He slots his fingers in-between Magnus', a smile toying at his own mouth. He feels invigorated with new confidence, and it's hard to stop it from overtaking. He needs to be in control of his expression, otherwise he'll give himself away.

"You're banned from Peru?"

Magnus' eyes widen sharply, his jaw slackening, hand flexing involuntarily on Alec's shoulder. Just as quickly, his eyes narrow, tight lines creasing the edges of his mouth. "That's in my file?"

"Apparently," Alec nods towards his desk. "You can look for yourself, if you'd like."

Magnus shakes his head, though clearly at the situation and not Alec, then flicks his wrist, plucking the file from Alec's desk with a swish of blue magic. He stands there, one hand still on Alec's shoulder, the other flicking through the hovering file. Alec watches the emotions flicker across Magnus' face as he reads, barely containing his amusement - it's odd to be on the other side of situations like this. Magnus is always so in control, always understands Alec and can accurately presume where he's coming from - always the hustler.

Alec likes being the hustler.

All of a sudden, Magnus blurts out: "This is preposterous. Half the 'facts' in these aren't even true - Shadowhunters and their in-bred prejudice towards Downworlders ... as if they're not responsible for horrible things themselves..."

Alec, aware that his people are far less than perfect, doesn't take Magnus' words as an insult. They are, after all, true, and he's quickly coming to learn that there is more lying beneath what he's been told his entire life. For all of the claims about Magnus that are lies, there are thousands of myths spread by Downworlders, about Shadowhunters, that aren't.

One claim about Magnus, however, sticks out more than others. And surprisingly, it's not his supposed past life as a pirate.

"When the Circle were active," The words taste like poison, but he spits them out, knowing the pay-off will be worth the temporary displeasure. "You, reportedly, ran into some Shadowhunters. I did some digging, and because they're pre-digital and us _Shadowhunters_ have a tendency to keep old files in case the digital system crashes, I discovered _who_ exactly, you ran into."

Magnus frowns, and then understanding sinks in, and he feigns temporary ignorance. "Really?"

"Mm." Alec nods. He's enjoying this more than he thought he would. "One of them was pregant, actually. Apparently you called her unborn child a, what was it ... doubtless repellant brat?"

He doesn't try and hide his self-satisfied smirk now. He lets it spread, slow and easy.

Magnus clears his throat. "Did I?"

"That's what I've heard." Alec tilts his head, thoughtfully. "So. Have you changed your mind about me yet?"

"In fairness," Magnus points out, guilt flashing in his eyes. "Your mother did threaten me. And she was in the business of murdering my people at the time. I was rather predisposed to disliking her."

"You didn't even know _me_ , though." Alec points out. "You expressed dislike towards an unborn child."

Magnus' eyes soften, slightly. "Consider who your mother is, and what she was doing at the time, I think I was well within my right. You were a child of the Circle, Alexander. It didn't matter who you might turn out to be, it mattered who you belonged to."

He squeezes Alec's hand. "Clearly I was wrong. And I can admit that. But in all honesty, luck wasn't on my side - you were bound to be brought up with the same views and values your parents held. I couldn't chance a risk you'd be different."

"I am, though."

"Yes." Magnus' smiles brightly. "And I am very grateful for that. I had no idea you would turn out to be, well, _you_. And I take back what I said. You are not a brat, nor are you repellant." A heated spark flashes in Magnus' eyes, quick and sultry. "Far from it, actually."

Alec is a little startled by the shot of joy that flickers inside him. It had been weird, finding things like this, fnding the connection, finding the obscure facts of Magnus' past that may, or may not, be true. He can identify the irony in his pre-birth connection to Magnus, but it's less surreal and more - funny. To think that Magnus would, essentially, be eating his own words some twenty years later.

To discover he owned a pet monkey, and caused so big a stir in Peru he got himself banned. To discover that there truly is _volumes_ of Magnus' past that he's yet to learn. He wants to. He hopes he has the chance to.

There's something a tiny bit more pressing at this very second, though.

"I don't care." He stands up from his seat, reaching for Magnus' hand, earnestly. "That you thought I was a repellant brat. I could have been, had the circumstances been different. Had Jace not joined us, had Iz not been who she is. Had I been brought up in Idris the way my parents probably planned."

Magnus' eyes are shining.

Alec strokes his thumb along the back of Magnus' hand, the other reaching out to grasp at Magnus' bicep. His shirt is firm and form-hugging, and Alec presses his fingers into the muscle, grounding himself, and probably Magnus too.

"I don't care that you were banned from Peru, although I think it's quite funny, and I'd love to hear the story one day. From you, not from a stupid file." A file which has been promptly discarded on the desk. "I care about your past with Camille, but not because I'm jealous or anything. I care because she hurt you, and you deserve more than that. You deserve - you deserve to be loved and, and cared for, you deserve someone who worries about you and who only wants the best for you. Not someone who tears you down."

A lone tear slides down Magnus' cheek. Alec lets go of Magnus' hand, and wipes away at the silver track, his hand cradling Magnus' jaw. "I love you, Magnus. I care about _you_ , not what - or who - you've done, but who you _are_ , the things you stand for, the things that make you happy. I want to know everything about you, the good and bad, what makes your heart race and things you regret but would do again for the experience alone. But only in your time. I am more than happy to wait."

There are very few times Alec has been around a speecheless Magnus Bane. It's an odd, but slightly pleasing experience, knowing whatever he said temporarily took the words from someone usually so poised and elegant. Alec craves to be as articulate as Magnus, so when he's put in a situation where Magnus is the one the words have failed, he feels like they're on slightly more equal footing.

Magnus blinks back intruding tears. He smiles, and it's a little watery but still overwhelmingly sweet, and when he reaches for Alec's hips his touch burns through Alec's tank, a semi-permanent imprint.

"I love you, Alexander-" Magnus grins, awestruck. "Lightwood." He slips a hand beneath the hem of Alec's top, his thumb stroking circles into Alec's skin. "A myriad of surprises and yet loving you is the biggest, and least regrettable one."

"See." Alec shakes his head fondly. "There you go, with the words again. I attempt to express my feelings with actual words, and then you wax poetic in half the sentences I do. It's not fair."

Magnus tuts sympathetically, his thumb still stroking circles. "I'm ... sorry?"

"Don't be," Alec sighs, his smile betraying his put-upon irritation. "You've got years on me, I'm all young and fresh and _innocent ..._ you're bound to be more experienced."

Magnus inclines his head, his nose brushing against Alec's. "Are you calling me old?"

Alec pretends to consider it, lips pursed slightly. "Well. Your file does say you are 800-something years old. That's pretty old to me."

"My file lies." Magnus admits, relucatantly. "It's less than 800."

Alec, soaking in as much brazen confidence as he can, decides to approach the subject tactfully. "I suppose it doesn't really matter. You look good, for 800 or otherwise."

Magnus inhales deeply. There's a debate raging in his eyes that Alec watches with reserved patience.

"You know, a warlock's age is something they keep close to their heart." Magnus's eyes are dark and glittering. "Very few people know my true age."

"I don't expect to." Alec knows he hasn't done anything to deserve the truth behind such a secret.

"Not even a ballpark?" Magnus sounds surprised. Alec can't fathom why.

"You could tell me you were alive before the Big Bang and I'd presume you just moisturise." Alec quips. He can feel Magnus' pulse through his fingertips, feel the steady beat that quickens at Alec's words.

"I know I said it only a moment ago," Magnus sounds genuinely in awe. "But I love you, Alexander."

He brushes his lips against Alec's with a gentle touch, a kiss that speaks of love and care and an experience that is still new for the both of them. "I will tell you," Magnus promises. "One day. Just, not in your room at the New York Institute with a file of my ex-girlfriend a few inches away."

"Understandable." Alec bumps his nose against Magnus' teasing a kiss with a light press of his lips to Magnus'. "I think I've done enough work, today." He hasn't. He'll probably be back here early tomorrow. "You hungry?"

"Starving." Magnus smiles against Alec's lips. "Let's head back to my place, it's less stuffy there. And I have cocktails."

"Well, in that case-" Alec can't stop smiling, even as he presses a firm kiss to Magnus' mouth. "I'm there. Presuming you will be, too."

"I'll be anywhere you are, darling."

 

* * *

 

_'Now here's some honesty. Sometimes I trip over your history'_

-

"Magnus?"

He should have called. He shouldn't be turning up at Magnus' apartment unannounced like this, even if the door did open for him of it's own volition, he still should have left Magnus some warning or something, he could be busy or out or-

"Alexander." Magnus dances out from the direction of his office, a blinding grin on his face. "You came."

"You expected me?" Alec asks, nose scrunched.

Magnus fiddles idly with his ear cuff. "Well. I was hoping. It's been..." Magnus pauses. "Hm. It's only been a day. It felt like longer."

Alec nods in concurrence. "I've missed you," He states, simply, because it isn't a complicated matter. He missed Magnus. Even if it's been barely twenty-four hours.

"Well, that's a relief." Magnus steps forward - slinks, actually, like a graceful cat. "I've missed you too."

He reaches out, hand grasping Alec's arm. They kiss, lazy and soft, a thousand sentiments passing between them. Hello, I love you, I've missed you, I'm glad you're here with me, I don't want you to leave, I don't want to leave.

Magnus pulls back, reluctantly. "I'm currently mid-translation of an old Cthonic text, tiresome thing but it pays _exceptionally_ well." He drops a flirty wink, a smile tugging at his lips. "Feel free to settle yourself in the living room, I'll just finish this page and join you - hopefully sooner rather than later."

Alec nods. "Okay."

Magnus pecks his lips, and then darts off. "You look a dream, Alexander," He calls over his shoulder, leaving Alec standing there with a dazed smile on his face, able to reply only to himself.

He glances down at his outfit. Dark grey shirt, a few shades off being completely black, high-collared navy cargo jacket, black jeans with loosely stringed combat boots and a trusty seraph blade strapped to the outer of each leg. His hair is fluffy and, frankly, a mess from how many times he'd ran his hand through it over the course of the entire day - stressful doesn't even begin to cover it.

He doesn't look a dream. A nightmare, maybe.

Magnus, with his blonde streaks and gold-lined eyes, white button up with silver hearts and sinfully tight pants, his shimmering glittered skin and mahogany-painted lips. Magnus looks like a dream. An unattainable fantasy that Alec, somehow, has gained the pleasure of experiencing in it's tangible form.

Alec enters the living room, making a beeline for the drinks cart. Not because he needs what Isabelle so frequently refers to as liquid courage, but because Magnus has a pitcher of ice-cold water waiting, as though he'd truly been anticipating Alec's arrival, and Alec likes the elegance of drinking water from a crystal tumbler.

Magnus has changed his living room. He does that, ocassionally, when he gets tired of the colour scheme or wants a fresh look - Alec once walked in to find Magnus lounging on a hot fuschia couch, apparently unaware - or uncaring - of how painfully bright it was. Another time, Magnus had taken his decorating skills to the extreme and moved everything bar a pile of pillows and his ever-cherished drink cart into a storage unit in the name of _feng shui_ or something of the like.

Magnus likes to change up his apartment as much as he likes changing his outfits, and whilst Alec finds it charming, he isn't as fond of fluroscent furniture.

This time is a little more bearable. An elongated six-seat modular couch in charcoal with a fringed multicoloured throw over the top, a drooping chandelier hanging from the ceiling, clear glass coffee table with gilded edges settled in the center of the room. Everything else was as Alec had seen it last; same drinks cart, same beautifully carved chess set off to the side, same flickering fireplace.

Although. The books on the table are new.

Alec perches himself on the couch, trying not to sink into the cushions, and pulls the top book forward. It's a photo album, he discovers on closer inspection, dark and leather-bound. He traces his hand over the engraved words glinting in gold on the front.

 

_BANE. Vol. 3_

 

Before he can consider if it's a good idea, Alec has untied the string and flipped over the first page. It reveals an image of Magnus, and a man in green with curved horns he assumes, having never met the man, is Ragnor Fell. They're standing in front of a wrought iron fence, _WS_ intialised above their heads. Magnus has a scarf wrapped around Ragnor's neck, lips a few inches from Ragnor's cheek. Ragnor, to Alec's light amusement, has the world's most twisted, disgusted look on his face. Nevertheless, Alec gets the feeling that this is how their relationship, strange as it is, worked.

 

Next to the image, Magnus has written in his elegant scrawl _: 'Ragnor pretends he despises my existence, but deep down I know he truly loves me. Deep beneath that stone cold heart of his. At least the scarf brightens up his macabre look.'_

 

Alec smiles to himself, and turns the page. It's not any of his right, but part of him wishes he could have met Ragnor. Magnus, understandably, doesn't talk about him much, but he was clearly a dear part of Magnus' life, and Alec would have liked to know him.

Shaking his head, as though by doing so it will dispel his thoughts, Alec focuses on the new page. There's a woman in this one, with skin like the sky and hair long and white like a cloud, standing between Magnus and Ragnor. In her hands she clutches a bouquet of white roses, a pleasant smile lighting her cerulean eyes. Ragnor looks slightly less disgruntled, though his arms are folded across his chest and his mouth is pulled in a thin line. He's wearing the same scarf Magnus had been wrapping around his neck in the previous image, so clearly that event had gone in Magnus' favour. Magnus is smiling brightly, one arm hooked in the woman's, the other fiddling with a pocket watch hanging from his pinstriped vest.

 

_'Catarina doesn't lie about her birthday the way I do. She's honest like that. Ragnor, in an attempt to usurp me, enchanted her flowers to smell like vanilla. Fortunately, I have a few tricks left up my sleeve. I might even let her cheat the next time we play cards, even though I adore the fire in her eyes when I call her out on it.'_

 

Magnus Bane, Alec thinks - and not for the first time - is a strangely wonderful kind of person.

He flicks through, glancing at the images and inscriptions, the little anecdotes Magnus has scribbled in. Then he lands on a page, where a man who could be his twin were their eyes not different colours, catches his gaze. There's two images, the first with three people in dashing Victorian clothing. Two men - one with black curls and bright blue eyes, a cocky grin Alec has seen on Jace many times, the other will silver locks and grey eyes, a gold cobra-topped staff in hand - stand on either side of a kind-smiled woman with chestnut ringlets and a thick book clutched tightly in her arms.

The inscription reads: _'The love these three manage to share is admirable and unbelievable. Will, with his cursed heart; Jem, with his deadly affliction and gentle soul; and darling Tessa, with her coiled past and endless hope. Though I doubt I will ever find a love as strong and unbreakable, I have faith that it exists, and that is enough for me.'_

Will. Alec wracks his brain, the name sounding familiar, tickling the dark spaces of his mind like a task he forgot to complete.

Will. _Will Herondale._ He's a legend around Shadowhunters. His tale was taught to them as children to scare them off Pyxis', but Alec never knew Magnus and Will Herondale were friends. There's not a lot, bar Will's curse, that is known, his actual life story not scary enough to be passed down through generations.

There's a gentleness that exudes from the image, a soft calm that lulls him, draws him towards them. He wants to know about them, their lives, their love. Their time with Magnus, for clearly they're important if they're in a photo album of his.

The image next to it has Magnus in it, standing next to the same woman from the first - Tessa. She's wearing a dark cloak, her head tucked into Magnus' shoulder, his arm around her protectively. There's an intimacy to the image that seems to be carried throughout the entire album, an intimacy that comes, it seems, with knowing Magnus as well as these people.

 

_'Death is never easy. And the death of one's first love carries with it an ache that is soul-deep. I have never loved the way Tessa has, and can't imagine how raw a pain it must be. Such a mark upon one's soul would be hard for even time to heal.'_

 

Alec rubs at his collarbone thoughtfully. The loss that Magnus has not only endured, but seen - how much pain and loss has he carried to relieve the burden of another, how much pain and loss has he added to his own, buried beneath his facade of happiness to make the long days pass quicker? Magnus Bane is the most incredible person Alec has ever met, to have lived and suffered through it all, and come out on the other side, not unscathed but certainly stronger for it.

"Alec?"

Alec jolts, enrapt in the photos before him. He shuts the album quickly, throwing it back onto the table in front of him. Magnus is standing next to the couch, a tightly composed expression covering his true feelings, hands placed deliberately on his hips. Something unyielding constricts in Alec's gut, and he swallows thickly.

"I'm sorry," He blurts out, standing up and then sitting down again, unsure of how he's supposed to act in such a situation. "They were on the table and - and I know I shouldn't have looked, they're obviously private but once I opened it I couldn't stop-"

"Alexander-"

"I'll - I'll leave." Alec stands up again. "I'm really sorry, Magnus. I-"

Magnus rounds the corner slowly, his eyes narrowed studiously. His gaze flickers between Alec and the albums on the table. After a moment, the silence so tense it's suffocating, he leans forward and picks up the same volume that Alec had been looking at a minute before.

Solemnly, he flicks open the album. Alec watches with baited breath, hands twitching by his sides - he can't figure out if Magnus is angry or upset or disappointed, and the uncertainty is worse than if Magnus had just started screaming at him.

"For all her gifts," Magnus says quietly, a smile playing across his lips. "Catarina is an awful cheat. You wouldn't think someone who heals mundanes for mediocre pay would have such a depraved streak about her."

Alec's fingers tap an erratic beat against his legs. He doesn't speak.

"I was planning on showing you," Magnus admits quietly. He hasn't looked up yet. "It's actually why there were on the table. I'd planned to ease you into my past, but I couldn't decide which one to present first. I got carried away with my reminiscing, and barely remembered the translation I'm being paid an extortianate amount to perform."

He glances up, then, a spark in his eyes that is, to a degree, comforting. "And then you turn up, looking as delectable as you do, and all common sense flits from my mind."

"I'm really sorry."

Magnus shakes his head fondly. "Don't be. I wouldn't have left them out if I didn't mind, Alexander, I am not _that_ scatterbrained. See anything interesting?"

Alec bites at his bottom lip gently. "Your haircut in the 18th century was a sight." He admits quietly. Magnus had hair that fell to his shoulders, often tied at the nape with a ribbon, the odd strands fluttering around his face. He looked - well. He always looked beautiful. But _then_ , especially...

Magnus' nose scrunches up adorably. "Surely not."

Alec takes a daring step forward. "No, really. You looked amazing. Maybe, after this war is over, you could revisit such a style?"

Magnus, slowly lessening the distance between them, smirks. "What's in it for me?"

"I'm sure we could work something out."

"Oh," Magnus' eyes are glittering. "That's a dangerous proposal, Alexander. You don't quite know what you're offering, I think."

Alec quirks an eyebrow. "Really?" He reaches out, hooking his fingers in Magnus' belt loops and tugging him forward until their chests are pressed flushed together. He bumps his nose against Magnus', brushing their lips with the lightest touch. "I think anything is worth it."

Magnus tilts his head, their foreheads pressed together. He slides a hand beneath Alec's jacket, over his shirt and up to rest above his heart. 'I love you." He whispers. "I want to share my past with you, bit my bit."

"Bit by bit," Alec echoes. "Sounds fair."

It sounds more than fair. It sounds fantastic.

"And," Magnus kisses Alec, long and warm. "My future. Hopefully."

Alec is sure that his erratically beating heart is reverberating through Magnus' hand. "I love you too," He replies, because he doesn't have anything else. He can't promise Magnus a future he might not have, despite how desperately he wants to, because he's a Shadowhunter.

It's a twisted fact, but they marry, and most often _die,_ young. If they're lucky enough to fall in love, it's for life, so whilst Alec can promise Magnus his love for life, he can't promise the forever that Magnus deserves because he might not have it.

He can give Magnus _this_ , though. This moment. Him, his love, his passion. His heart.

Alec presses a warm kiss to Magnus' lips, then maps his love across Magnus' cheeks, his forehead, his jaw, the spot behind his ear that drives him crazy. "You're everything I thought I could never have," He murmurs against Magnus' neck. "I love you. I'm so lucky to have you."

_I never want to let you go._

 

* * *

 

_'Wish I could change my mind. But it's the things I shouldn't see that always catch my eye.'_

_-_

"I am going to _kill_ Jace."

"Darling," Magnus' protest is weak, and only serves to motivate Alec's anger.

"Kill. Him. Dead." Alec spits. "With my own bare hands. How he could be so _stupid -_ he wasn't thinking about you, or anyone else - as usual he was only thinking about himself..."

"Alexander-" Magnus coughs, essentially cutting off his own sentence. Alec, with a fleeting, caring glance, tightens his arm around Magnus' waist, keeping his murderous threats towards his _parabatai_ under his breath.

Magnus wasn't supposed to be out on the field with them. He's only supposed to be called out on extrenuous and particular circumstances. They had a task force, there was at least ten shadowhunters out there, they could have handled it on their own.

But, no.

Jace hears whiff of magic being used to restrain mundanes with cuffs of fire and decides, hey, why wait until the coast is clear to bring Magnus in, we'll just call him now and drag him into an investigation he has no immediate need to be a part of. There's nothing that could have waited for the bodies to return to the Institute, they were both dead by the time they arrived at the scene.

The horde of Iblis demons, however, weren't. They proved to be a far larger problem, all ending with Magnus, depleted of magic and shivering from head to toe, because he can't heal himself with magic he doesn't have.

They were everywhere. Walking columns of rolling black smoke, yellow eyes that burn through the darkness like beacons of light cast upon their prey, flanking the group from all sides. Three more appeared with every demon taken down, they weren't just greatly outnumbered, they were grossly underprepared.

Sure. Magnus helped. A lot, in fact, they would have still been warding off demons and waiting for reinforcements if Magnus hadn't turned up. He'd stalked in, black coat sweeping, and blasted the closer circumference with blazing blue fire. It had been dangerous and enchanting and a marvel to experience.

The demons had kept coming, though. Endless and relentless. One had reared up behind Magnus, black tendrils stretched out to wrap around his neck, and probably would have, had Alec not come up behind it and sliced down with his seraph blade, sweat beading at his temples and fear-fuelled adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Magnus offered him a grateful smile, but Alec couldn't get past the terror that for the second time in as many months, he'd almost lost Magnus. And this time, it was to his _parabatai's_ lack of sense.

No one walked away unscathed. Clary had blood matted at her temple, Isabelle was weak and drained, the fight taking more out of her than it should have. Jace had scorch marks from the demons streaking up his arm, but Alec had barked at Clary to heal him instead, when asked, because he had more concerning him than Jace's superficial injuries. They'd heal well enough with an _iratze_. Magnus wouldn't.

Magnus needed him more than Jace did, and Alec wasn't in the right space of mind to talk to Jace with his boyfriend nearly passing out beside him.

"Just, lay me down on the couch." Magnus instructs in a pained whisper. "I just need to sit down."

Alec wonders what the penalty for the murder of one's own _parabatai_ is. Probably de-runing. Arguably not worth it. Still a consideration.

"I'll be fine, Alexander-" Magnus exhales shakily, proving that Alec is perfectly warranted in his concerns. "Just lay me down. Please."

Alec rolls his eyes, and continues towards the couch, Magnus a heavy and lethargic weight beside him. It doesn't help that he's got an iratze burning into his forearm from where it was twisted and _almost_ snapped. Unfortunate problem when a corporeal demon wraps itself around your seraph blade and tugs in a vain attempt to disarm you.

Alec carefully lies Magnus on the couch, fiddling with the pillows until they're aligned so that Magnus can be comfortably propped on them without fear of any more injuries. Magnus smiles, strained but grateful.

"Can I get you anything?" Alec asks, wringing his hands together. "A potion, something to eat or drink, or-"

"I'm fine, Alexander, thank you." Magnus blinks, his golden cat-eyes dim and glassy. "I just need to rest."

"You're hurt," Alec points out. "That's as far from fine as you can get."

Iblis demon's aren't smart, and neither are some Shadowhunters for that matter. A quick, ill-intentioned swipe of a seraph blade has left Magnus with a nasty cut along his chest, torn through his shirt - which Magnus had spent the better half of five minutes complaining about as though it mattered more than the mangled scar across his abs.

Seraph blades have a similiar effect on Downworlders than on demons, and although Magnus was quick enough to heal over the cut, it's still left a tender scar that aches when he moves, and only added to his bone-deep exhaustion.

Magnus groans. "I'm not the only one," His eyes are surprisingly alert. "Let me look at your arm."

"It's fine." Alec protests, turning so that his sprained wrist is hidden behind his body. "At least let me make you some tea or something."

"You can make tea if you let me fix your arm." Magnus proposes.

"You're not doing anything with your magic depleted like that." Alec shakes his head. "I have an _iratze_ , and a _mendelin_ rune, it will be fine."

He'd slipped some strength to Magnus, but he didn't have a lot left himself, and it was only enough to keep Magnus upright, certainly not enough to fuel his magic enough to heal a twisted arm.

"That ache," Magnus lifts his hand, poking at Alec's sternum. "In there? That spreads out like the blossom of a flower and grips you tightly in it's hold?"

Alec croaks. "Yeah?"

"I have it too." Magnus moves his hand until it's wrapped around Alec's. "And right now, it hurts more than the scar across my torso."

"I highly doubt that." Alec murmurs, blinking back phantom tears.

Magnus squeezes his hand gently. "I wouldn't lie, Alexander. If my being couch-ridden bothers you this much, you can help by pulling a robe from my closet. I doubt staying in these tattered clothes will help me much - and I may require help with changing, too."

Alec bites at his bottom lip nervously, and nods. He's a little overwhelmed, shaky on his legs, but what Magnus has just said is as good as an order, and orders he can handle. He's a solider, at his core, and a goal-oriented course of action is the best thing for him right now.

"A robe. Any particular robe?"

Magnus's smiles and it's almost enough to settle Alec's nerves. "Whichever you like best."

Alec bends down, pressing a kiss to Magnus' forehead. "How you manage to flirt in the situation you're in, I will never know."

"The world could be burning, Alexander, and I would still flirt with you." A flicker of life has returned to Magnus' eyes, sparking them in a way that's oddly reassuring. "Promise."

"I'll be back." Alec assures him.

He hates leaving Magnus behind, but he trusts that if something goes wrong than Magnus has the peace of mind to call out to him. It's unnerving, heading into Magnus' bedroom without Magnus behind him, let alone into his closet which he's only dared a fleeting glance at before. He's seen the myriad of extensive and varying outfits that Magnus has, and he's sure that it barely chips at the entirety of what Magnus owns.

How is he supposed to pick something out for Magnus, when it is of no surprise to anyone that Alec has the barest minimum fashion sense? Not that Magnus would own anything ugly, or look ugly in anything, but Alec has no idea what feels comfortable or works for resting or-

_Focus, Lightwood._

He can do this. He just has to open the doors and pick out a nice robe. Magnus would look good in anything, so he can't fail too horribly in this department. A nice robe. Easy.

Alec pulls on the doors and physically deflates. Between his runes and his fatigue, it makes sense that he'd be feeling warm and flushed, it's not embarrssment at feeling entirely inadequate, his body temperature is being raised by the healing rune burnt into his skin.

"So many clothes," He mutters to himself. "There's just - so many."

It's a walk-in wardrobe, which should accomodate for the sheer volume of clothes, but it doesn't. He takes a step and finds himself surrounded on all sides, pants and coats and jackets, silk shirts and blazers and glittering belts and billowing scarves and things he has no name for. Not to mention the endless array of shoes littering the floor - Alec thought that Isabelle had an addiction, but Magnus probably outdoes her times a thousand. Comes with the years, he supposed.

Alec flicks through, fingers brushing across each article, the different fabrics sending sparks against his skin with a vitalising sense of experience. Magnus really has some beautiful clothes - Alec hasn't seen a quarter of these, but his mind is running over the possibilities with the reveal of each item, and he finds himself - selfishly - wondering what Magnus would like look with them on. Upon his first venture he uncovers little, a few things though no robes, so he crosses back. His fingers bump something hard, something certainly not wearable, and as always his curiosity is louder than his common sense.

It's another photo album. Alec has had the fortune to look through a few of them, with Magnus, but they looked different than this one. This one is black and hardcover, not leather, with a red ribbon poking out the bottom - a bookmark? Must be. The letters engraved on the front are also done in red, a deep and bright crimson that bring tears to his eyes.

 

_LIGHTWOOD. Vol. 1_

 

He should put it back. He knows he should put it back, and tells himself such even as he turns to the bookmarked page.

It's Isabelle's face that greets him, from the night they first met Magnus, headdress glittering, ruby pendant stark against her skin, her eyes catching the light and exuding happiness. Magnus' head is pressed to hers, a bright grin splitting his face - they look like friends. It must've been taken when Clary was sketching out the pentagram, and he and Jace were discussing the importance of following Clary around like a lost puppy. He might have snapped a little.

Magnus and Isabelle, in the mean time, were chatting along like they'd known each other for years and, apparently, taking selfies like best buds. They look happy, and even if Magnus had barely been an acquaintance at the time, it makes Alec feel good.

 

_'Isabelle Lightwood is a force to be reckoned with. It was a delight to pass on the ruby necklace that, truthfully, belongs in the Lightwood family and has done since Cecily. If only her gorgeous brother would spare me a second glance...'_

 

Alec's cheeks flush brightly - he had, as it turns out, spared Magnus a few glances. He'd tried not to make it too obvious, but there was something enthralling about Magnus' presence that he'd been unable to keep his gaze from.

He idly flips the page, cheeks still pink, and freezes. There's three rather small images of _him_ \- Polaroids, they're Polaroids.

One is of him standing at the balcony, his back to Magnus' camera, wrapped in a tight knit-sweater, the sun sinking below the horizon in front of him, painting the background with a golden glow.

 

_'I am the luckiest man alive.'_

 

Alec tries to stifle down his grin, but it's hard when his eyes pass to the second photo. He's sitting on the couch, the original one that had been there when they first met, curled up in the corner with a book resting on his knees. He's clearly oblivious to the goings on around him, including Magnus' photography, but more than that, he looks - at ease. At home. Comfortable.

_'_ _A Shadowhunter. Who would have thought? A lifetime of surprises and falling for a Shadowhunter is by far the greatest one. I could never have imagined ... but it's worth it. He's worth it.'_

 

Cheeks glaring red like traffic lights, Alec passes to the last photo and feels his knees go weak. It's a rather ... intimate image. He's sprawled stomach-down on Magnus' bed, red silk sheets pulled up to his waist, his pale, runed back exposed for all to see. His hair is tousled and his mouth is hanging unattractively - and he's probably drooling, but it's apparently good enough for Magnus.

 

_'The most beautiful sight to wake up to. I love when I rise before him, for I get the chance to see him in all his morning glory, relaxed and unburdened by the pressures he carries on his shoulders. It's foolish to wish he wouldn't take on the concerns of others, so the best I can hope for are these precious moments.'_

 

Alec knows that he probably takes on too much of other people's problems, but he can't help himself. He has a strong and internal desire to help people who need it, he can't walk away from another person's problems and if that means he ends up taking it all onto his own shoulders, than that's just the burden he ends up carrying.

He's always been like that, it's a part of who he is - it's why he cleaned Magnus' couch after Luke had bled onto it, why he gave Magnus his strength without question, it's even - partially - why he proposed to Lydia, because it would help her, and his family; in retrospect it wasn't his best decision, but he had good intentions at the heart of it all.

Magnus cares about the burdens he carries, but he doesn't press or try and stop Alec. He just - he accomodates all of Alec's little quirks and idiosyncracies and loves him for it.

Wonders never cease.

Alec makes sure the bookmark is in the same spot he'd found it and shuts the album, sliding it back into the little crook of the closet he'd taken it from. He's seen it now, and he can't take that back, but he can stop himself before he sees anymore. This wasn't laid out easily for him to see, it's hidden in Magnus' closet and there's a boundary of privacy he's defiantly crossed.

Magnus is waiting on the couch, weak and lethargic and Alec's focus should be on helping him.

He ends up finding a deep blue robe with sparkling silver stitching and shimmering stars behind a tough leather coat, and pulls it out carefully, laying it over his arm so as not to crinkle it - he's not sure if it even can crinkle but he's not about to test it, not now, not after what he's just done.

Magnus has his eyes closed when he walks back into the living room, but there's a graceful smile that spreads once Alec enters.

"You disappeared for a while," Magnus mumbles. "I was starting to get concerned you'd found my secret portal."

"Secret portal?"

Magnus' eyes flicker open. There's a glimmer in them that heals over Alec's concerns. Magnus will be okay, he will, he just - like he said - needs some rest. "For someone with limited fashion sense you picked a wonderful robe." He comments, ignoring Alec's question.

"Uh, well - I'm glad." Alec clears his throat awkwardly, fiddling with the robe. "Sit up, and I'll help you put it on."

Magnus moves forward, as instructed, his elbows resting on his knees. He blinks up at Alec curiously, as though he knows that there is something Alec isn't telling him. Alec lies the robe over the back of the couch and bends over Magnus, carefully helping him shuck off his heavy-duty coat, the shirt beneath all but tatters.

"I'm sorry," He really is. "But I don't think this shirt has any life left in it."

Magnus pouts, glancing down at the strips of fabric wrapped around his torso. "Unfortunately, darling, I think you may be right. And I did so dearly love it."

Alec fiddles with the top button - even if the shirt is barely held together, he wants to make this as painless as possible. "Is there a spell for, I don't know, shirt resurrection or something?"

"I wish," Magnus pouts. "There's no actual spell. I could attempt to fix it, but I'd have to get the same fabric, first, and then enlist magic to stitch it all together, which I doubt you'll let me do."

Alec just stares.

"Exactly." Magnus shrugs one shoulder lightly. "It's okay, I'm sure there are a thousand similiar shirts out there waiting; believe me, as soon as I'm better there will be an influx of new shirts making up for the fact I have lost this one."

Alec smiles thinly. "I'm sure." He undoes the last button and slowly slips the shirt off Magnus' shoulders, dumping it in a tattered pile on the floor. He eyes the cut on Magnus' torso warily.

It's all raised and shining pink, and just serves as a reminder that Magnus got hurt.

"You can touch it," Magnus whispers. "If it would make you feel better. It won't hurt, darling, I've numbed it."

Alec grimaces, but reaches out anyway. Alec knows scars, he knows them well, and this one will likely heal with barely a mark left behind - a strike of glistening silver, perhaps, but nothing like it is now. Currently, it's bumpy and ragged and coarse to the touch and when Alec pulls back his eyes are brimming with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry," He scrubs at his eyes furiously. "I'm so sorry, Mags."

"Alexander-" Magnus catches at his hand and links their fingers together. "I made the decision to come. Jace asked, but _I_ came because I wanted to. I wanted to help - this isn't a one-sided war, it affects me too. I would have had to consult at some point, and it made more sense to get in early. I'm not sorry, Alexander, and neither should you be."

Alec shakes his head. "You could have gotten seriously hurt, Magnus, you-" He swallows forcefully. "You could have died."

He hates considering it, but it's the truth. He has no clue what he would have done had misfortune struck so badly, and he's overwhelmingly grateful it didn't, but the potential was there.

"You go out hunting every day." Magnus points out diplomatically. "You could die. You shadowhunters literally have a motto about it. _Pulvis et umbra sumus -_ we are dust and shadows. It may surprise you, but us Downworlders are aware of how seriously you take death."

Alec exhales shakily. "My job _entails_ death, I was brought up being told that I could die at any moment and to be prepared for that. Most Shadowhunters die at the hands of demons, it's a simple fact. But you - it's different for you!"

"Why?" Magnus raises an eyebrow sharply. "Why is it different for me than for you?"

"Because-" Alec steps back, raking a hand through his hair roughly. "Because I don't know what I'd do if you died!" He shouts, shocking the entire room into eerie silence. Magnus is watching him, concerned and surprised, and Alec's chest is heaving with breaths he can't exhale fast enough.

"We got lucky tonight, Magnus. All of us. If that blade had of tipped at a higher angle, if a demon had of gotten hold of you, we might not be having this conversation right now."

Magnus blinks dazedly. "Do you think I cannot handle myself?"

"I know you can handle yourself," Alec bites at his bottom lip. "You're one of the strongest, most powerful people I have ever met. That doesn't mean I can't worry about you, though. I already went through the terror of almost losing you once, I couldn't handle actually losing you."

"You didn't," Magnus reminds him, not unkindly. "I'm still here. And I'm okay. This is just a blemish, nothing that can't be covered by well-placed necklaces until it heals over properly."

"A blemish," Alec mutters beneath his breath.

Magnus picks up the robe, managing to slide his arm in a sleeve before Alec catches up. He glares sharply at Magnus, one hand tight on his shoulder with a grip firm enough that Magnus hopefully gets the hint. He doesn't. He just blinks innocently up at Alec with fluttering lashes that do unspeakable things to Alec's resolve.

"You're testing my boundaries," Alec declares, fondness leaking into his tone in spite of himself.

He pulls the robe around Magnus' shoulders, helping him slide his other arm into it's sleeve without painfully tugging too much of anything. His fingers brush against Magnus' chest as he straightens out the robe, fitting it so that it falls off Magnus comfortably.

He slides his hand down until it rests above Magnus' heart. The steady beat is reassuring, and he lets his eyes flutter closed, the relief washing over him in calming waves.

"I'm okay." Magnus lifts his hand and cradles Alec's jaw. "I'm alive. So are you. So is Isabelle. And Jace."

"For now," Alec mutters darkly. He's still undecided about what to do with Jace. Might have to not-so-accidentally stick his leather jacket in the wash. Hide a flock of ducks in his room and then get Magnus to magically lock Jace in with them.

"Join me, won't you?" Magnus requests, patting the space beside him.

Alec inhales deeply and then does so, sinking into the space beside Magnus. Magnus reaches for his hand and links their fingers together, his palm a warm presence against Alec's. Alec leans back, and Magnus rests his head on Alec's shoulder, hair tickling the underside of Alec's chin.

"I love you," Alec whispers, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Magnus' head.

Magnus laughs, warm and breatheless. "Really? I was under the impression you hated me, what with all of the suffocating attentiveness and neck-breaking desire to make me rest."

"I just care." Alec mumbles.

"I know," Magnus presses a soft kiss to Alec's collarbone. "And I appreciate it." Another kiss, at the juncture of Alec's neck and shoulder. "I love you, too."

Alec's arm is starting to ache, his runes slowly but surely wearing off. It's okay, healed for the most part, but there's an underlying pain that won't fade for a few hours at least. He's tired and sleepy and has little control over his mouth and where it runs to.

"Those photo albums, you were showing me the other day..." He strokes his thumb across the back of Magnus' hand. "With Ragnor and Catarina, and the others."

"Hm."

"When did you start mine?"

Magnus freezes, his body turning rigid. Alec sucks in a deep breath and waits - he wasn't going to hide it from Magnus, but perhaps there was a better time to bring it up, a better way.

"Yours?" Magnus' voice is tightly controlled and deliberately even.

Alec clears his throat. "Well, I saw my name on it - Lightwood - so I figured it was mine."

"I didn't know you were the only Lightwood," Magnus quips. Alec can't read the tone of his voice, and it's slightly disconcerting.

"Of course not. There's Izzy, and - well, we're the only current Lightwood's that you actually like." Alec squeezes Magnus' hand, hopefully, and exhales in relief when Magnus squeezes back.

Magnus adjusts his robe, pulling it over his front. "Did you have a look inside?"

"A glance." Alec admits sheepishly. "I'm sorry, my curiosity is going to be the death of me one day, I know-"

"Curiosity killed the cat," Magnus recalls. "But satisfaction brought it back." He tilts his head, until he's looking at Alec, a hesitancy in his thinly pursed lips. "Were you satisfied?"

"Filled with guilt covers it a little more accurately." Alec scrubs his free hand over his face. "I really am sorry. It's obviously private, and I had no right to look into it."

"Oh, Alexander-" Magnus laughs, and it's not the strangest thing Alec has ever experienced, but it certainly comes close. "Will you ever cease apologising? I'm not upset or angry or _anything_. I would have liked to show you myself under far nicer circumstances, but you've seen it now and it prevents me from staggering through the awkward 'I took photos of you while you were sleeping' talk-"

Magnus' eyes widen. "You did see those photos, yes? I didn't just burt out something I had no need to?"

Alec grins, remembering the photo, the caption, the warmth that had swelled inside him. "I saw one. I'm presuming there's more?"

Magnus pats Alec's chest. "Another time."

Alec shakes his head, about to reply with some half-witty quip about privacy and getting photos of Magnus in bed without a shirt on, but Magnus has his lips on Alec's before Alec can even form a sound, and Alec is too weak a man to pass such an invitation up.

The kiss is slow, their lips soft and unhurried, and they move together in slow and even movements, hands held tightly between them. Magnus is alive, Alec is alive, they're both okay and breathing and although the day could have gone a lot worse, it didn't.

Maybe Alec won't kill Jace. He'll just ignore him for the next few days, and lock himself in the apartment with Magnus until such time as Alec feels Magnus is healed enough to return to the real world.

Maybe even a few days after that.

 

* * *

 

_'Dirty laundry, looks good on you'_

_-_

Alec can feel himself relax as soon as he passes the threshold into Magnus' apartment, as though all the stress of his day simply ceases to matter once he's in the loft. He toes his boots off at the door and shucks his heavy leather jacket, eyeing the bandage wrapped around his forearm warily. It's too warm in the apartment to wear so many layers, so he won't be able to hide his injuries from Magnus, but he's not really looking forward to his boyfriend's over-protective reaction.

It's not like he's even that hurt. Some of the remaining Silent Brothers were on hand because of the type of demon reported and Brother Zachariah - one of the few who survived Valentine's massacre in the Silent City - had removed the poison from his system and healed over the small wounds embedded in his skin.

Raum demons, the white, scaly man-size disasters that had attacked them, have tentacles for arms, tipped with red suckers containing inner circles of tiny needlike teeth that release poison into the skin. The poison is easily taken care of, though the pain is less than pleasant and Alec had to grit his teeth until they returned to the Insititute - still, there's no lasting damage. Jace had drawn _mendelin_ and _amissio_ runes on him, too, and because they were drawn on by his _parabatai_ had helped exponentially - and besides, it's not exactly the first time he's had such an injury. He's survived it then, and he'll survive this one too.

He feels better already, the tentacle had barely been wrapped around his arm for barely a second before Isabelle's electrum whip had cut through it. Getting treated by Brother Zachariah was, in truth, a formality.

At least, that's how he hopes Magnus will see it. Probably won't, but he's foolishly hopeful whilst Magnus hasn't seen evidence of his injury. He hangs his jacket over his forearm and ventures slowly into the apartment, in hesitant search of his boyfriend.

Magnus is in the kitchen, dancing around with swinging hips to a song Alec thinks he might have heard before. The lyrics are ... interesting.

 

_'Oh, we don't need any diamonds or gold. Watch the mystic and cryptic unfold. As we fly high...'_

 

It's a pretty fitting summarisation of their relationship, when he considers the lyrics for what they imply. Especially as Magnus is known for being very, well, mystical - and then there's the matter of their first proper conversation, over drinks, when Magnus had claimed he was being coy as opposed to being cryptic.

The similarities bring a heated flush to his cheeks. Magnus, probably sensing a disturbance in the vicinity, whirls around, his gaze landing on Alec with an immediate smile that does little to help Alec's composure. "Hello, darling. I'm just preparing dinner - how does roasted chicken with fennel and candied walnuts sound?"

Alec shrugs. "Sounds nice - I mean I've never had it before, but you've also never made anything that's tasted bad, so I doubt this will be anything but fantastic."

"You're too good for me, Alexander." Magnus smiles, charmed. He sweeps forward, meeting Alec at the corner of the bench.

Magnus graces his thumb across the curve of Alec's cheekbone, his eyes narrowed slightly. "You have a cut," He murmurs. "Run into some nasty demons?"

Alec pulls back a little, angling himself so his non-injured arm is closer. "A few. Nothing we couldn't handle. It's just a cut."

"Hm." Magnus tuts, leaning forward to brush his lips against Alec's cheek. "Better?"

"Around you?" Alec smiles. "Always."

Magnus is looking at him like he's the world, and it's overwhelming and suffocating and Alec isn't sure how he got so lucky but he knows it's best to appreciate what he has whilst he has it. He grips Magnus' bicep with his non-injured hand and tips his head so that their foreheads are pressed together. Magnus smiles, in that small way that feels like a precious secret, and then that smile is pressed to Alec's mouth and everything feels right with the world.

"We should probably put a pin in this," Alec suggests, pulling back reluctantly, though not far. "Otherwise dinner will burn and I doubt your cooking finesse extends to burnt food."

Magnus archs an eyebrow. "You underestimate my skill." He declares.

"No," Alec pecks Magnus' nose. "I understand the laws of the universe. Burnt food tastes burnt."

Magnus sighs. "Good point."

Another kiss, and then he's pulling away, putting a respectable distance between them. "I'll save dinner, then. Feel free to have a shower and get changed-" Magnus wrinkles his nose, though it's betrayed by his smile. "You smell like a dank alleyway."

Alec frowns. "How can I smell like an alleyway? We weren't even in an alleyway-"

Magnus stares. "Trust me. You do."

Alec rolls his eyes fondly, but heads towards the bedroom anyway. Admittedly, he does need to change, and had full intention to do so - he has around half of his already limited closet at Magnus' apartment anyway, so he's bound to be able to find something to wear.

As soon as Brother Zachariah had cleared him, he'd retrieved his phone, stele and seraph blade and come straight here. At the time, it felt like the best idea. Now, he wonders if he should have showered at the Institute, because he's going to have to change his bandages, at some point, and he didn't bring any with him because he's clearly a very talented and prepared Shadowhunter.

He manages to take off his shirt with minimal strain, though for a moment his elbow gets stuck, leading him to contemplate whether the theory on 'quick and painless' applies in his current situation.

It doesn't.

"I was thinking we could eat on the balcony, it's a lovely night, but of course to do so I'll need a jacket, so-" Magnus' tone drops, low and dark. "Alexander?"

Alec feels himself tensing, hand going automatically to cover his forearm. He's frozen where he stands, limbs locked and jaw tense, his heart thudding violently in his chest. He clears his throat, awkwardly, and turns, a flood of apologies ready at his lips.

Magnus is glowering, glamoured eyes dark and lips pressed together in a thin line. "I guess there's a bigger injury here than that graze on your cheek?"

Alec swallows past the lump in his throat. "Uh. Yeah."

Magnus steps forward slowly, sleek and intimidating. There's a pulse at his jaw, a sign of how tightly he's gritting his teeth and just how annoyed he truly is. Behind the frustration in his eyes, though, there's a flash of hurt - if this had happened earlier in their relationship, Alec would be on the defence, hunched and explosive. Now, however, he knows better. He knows that fighting Magnus' fire with fire will only end up with both of them being burnt, and is not in any way worth the pain or the trouble.

The truth is his best option, and it's the one he's going to run with.

"We were called out as reinforcements for the group on patrol, and had to take down a relatively small swarm of Raum demons, and one of them got it's tentacle around my arm for a split-second-"

Magnus' eyes widen. "A split-second? Because the damage is different if it's a split-second? Did poison enter your system, Alec?"

Alec nods sheepishly. "Yes,"

Magnus shakes his head exasperatedly, arms coming up to fold across his chest. Alec takes a hesitant step forward, fiddling with the edge of his bandage. "I was attended to by a Silent Brother as soon as I stepped into the Institute - Brother Zachariah cleared me free of poison, I just need to keep the bandage on for a day or so to make sure that I don't damage the area until it's healed completely. I'll be good-as-new in no time."

"Brother Zachariah?" Magnus echoes, something knowing and distant in his tone.

"Yeah - he's one of the lucky ones, I guess, having survived Valentine and all."

Magnus' lips quirk ever so slightly. "Indeed."

Alec takes another step, eyes on Magnus the entire time. "I didn't tell you because I knew you would make a big deal-" Magnus bristles, his face tight and narrow but Alec pushes through. "And would insist on coming to the Institute, only to be turned away because of the disrest at the moment. I figured it was easier to let the Silent Brothers handle things, considering they were already there, and for that exact purpose after all."

Magnus still has a guarded feel about him, but his arms are looser and his jaw isn't clenched, so Alec takes that as a good sign.

"I wasn't trying to hide it from you," Alec rubs at the bandage, an itch appearing beneath as though it's been summoned by the situation. "You were preparing dinner and looked so happy, and dancing around, and I didn't want to ruin that."

"Alexander," Magnus shakes his head, his gaze softer when it lands on Alec. "Finding out you're hurt isn't what's going to ruin dinner."

"Have I already ruined dinner?" Alec asks, dread leaking into his voice.

Magnus rolls his eyes, which - well. Alec is rarely on the receiving end of an eyeroll. He isn't sure how to react. "Dinner will be fine, I promise. My point - or rather the point I'm trying to make, is that I would rather you tell me when you're hurt than keep it from me, for any length of time."

He wiggles his fingers adorably. "Now, let me have a look at that arm of yours."

Obligingly, Alec extends his bandaged forearm. Magnus glances at him, hesitantly, and then peels the bandage back with delicate fingers, his touch warm against Alec's skin. There's a spread of small red bumps, much like a rash, in a tight patch on his arm, a collection of minute puncture wounds.

"Raum demons." Magnus brushes his thumb along the patch. "Bastard things. Are you sure you're alright?"

Alec nods. "Completely cleared."

Magnus glances up, grimacing slightly. "I hope the pain wasn't too bad. It's supposed to be excruciating. I've been at the receiving end of demon attacks before, on the odd ocassion, but never by Raum demons."

"I've suffered worse," Alec admits. "How did you know what type of demon?"

"It's a signature attack," Magnus explains. "I've had plenty of time to study demonologie over the years, in preparation of being attacked." He lifts Alec's arm, brushing his lips over the bumps of Alec's skin.

Alec bites at his bottom lip gently, pink staining his cheeks and the tips of his ears. "If it would make you feel better, I'll make sure you get told next time, even if I'm unable to do so."

Magnus exhales shakily. He pulls Alec's bandage up, slowly, and when he looks back at Alec there's a raw openness to his gaze that is staggering. "I understand if you can't, Alexander. Perhaps I over-exaggerated a little, I just - I'm still getting used to the fact that this is a part of your life. Part of my life."

"Part of your life?" Alec echoes with thinly veiled hope.

"Well," Magnus smiles, that ghost of a grin that is saved for truly special moments. "Yes. You're a part of my life, Alexander, and as such so is the danger that nips at your heels like a hellhound. I can't stop myself from being worried about you, it comes with the territory of loving you, and I certainly can't lock you safely in the apartment, despite how much I might want to. That leaves me with one option - accepting the truth of our life together, and waiting anxiously for your return, safe and hopefully in one piece."

"I'm in one piece." Alec points out gently. "And, if it will help, I don't mind letting you know that I'm okay, once the danger has cleared. Or, if I'm not, make sure that _someone_ lets you know, even if your services aren't needed. I probably should have messaged you today, but all I could think about was coming here and seeing you myself."

He finds himself doing that a lot. The Institute has become a drab, grey place of business, not the home he'd grown up in. Home lies elsewhere nowadays.

"I was looking forward to your return, myself." Magnus smiles, sliding his hand into Alec's. "The bed was terribly cold when you left this morning."

"I'm sorry." Alec hated leaving early, but he'd been personally called in and as he'd been at Magnus', it left him with a travel time that didn't exist when living at the Institute.

Come to think of it - he hasn't technically lived at the Institute for weeks. He's barely there, maybe one night out of the entire week, if that.

"Maybe I should move in," Alec proposes, slow and even. "I'm here most of the time, anyway, and it's not like I have a lot of posessions to my name as it is."

A spark of delight flickers in Magnus' eyes. "Move in here?" His lips quirk up, his other hand coming up to cradle Alec's jaw. There's a hesitant scrutinisation about his expression, as though he's testing to see if Alec is serious. As though Alec would be anything but serious about something like this.

"If you want me here, of course." Alec leans into the touch. "I don't want to go back to the Institute. Not for anything except work. It's not home anymore. Home is ... well, home is here. With you."

Magnus pulls him close, his warm lips enveloping Alec's with a firm pressure that's both grounding and shaking. Alec melts into the touch, his other hand finding purchase on Magnus' hip, slipping under his sheer black top to the bronze skin beneath.

"Okay," Magnus gasps, pulling back only far enough to get the words out. "You should move in with me. Absolutely."

Another kiss, a firm press of lips to lips, Alec's fingers pressed to Magnus' skin, Magnus' hand sliding up to tangle in his hair, their palms pressed together by their side.

Alec is the one to pull away this time, his chest heaving with fresh breaths. "See, I have good ideas sometimes."

Magnus' tongue swipes along his bottom lip. "Anymore tucked in that pretty little brain of yours?"

"A few." Alec smirks, pressing a kiss to the corner of Magnus' mouth. "Best saved for after dinner, though."

"Dinner." Magnus mulls over the word like he's tasting it in his mouth. "I suppose we should eat."

Alec presses a line of kisses along Magnus' jaw. "Knowing you," He whispers against Magnus' neck. "I feel that we'll need it. Unless warlocks have their own version of a nourishment rune?"

"I have another rune in mind, actually." Magnus tilts his head, capturing Alec's mouth in a gentle and ever-increasingly heated kiss. " Tall and curling, gives the capacity to withstand extended fatigue - fades only as it's power is drawn upon."

"I might have heard of that one," Alec teases, his nose bumping Magnus'. It feels impossible to press any closer to Magnus, but he would, if he was able to. "Dinner first."

Magnus sighs, tucking his head into the crook of Alec's neck. "You drive a hard bargain, Alexander Lightwood." He sighs, his breath a warm ghost down Alec's bare chest. "Fine. But only if you keep your shirt off."

Alec laughs warmly, his hand sliding around to press against the small of Magnus' back. "That seems rather counter-productive."

Magnus presses a kiss to Alec's collarbone. "That's my deal, darling. Take it or leave it."

"We won't be able to eat outside if I don't have a shirt on," Alec points out, curling his fingers against Magnus's spine.

"Sacrifices must be made," Magnus states solemnly. "I'll be sure to make it worth your while. After dinner, of course."

"You're hopeless." Alec chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of Magnus' head.

Magnus hums. "Perhaps. You love me, though."

"Yeah. I do."

 

* * *

 

 

"You're going to need a key."

Alec strokes the space above Magnus' heart. A flick here, a curl there. A mark for the love held in his heart for Magnus, and equally, in Magnus' heart for him. "A key."

"Yes," Magnus runs his fingers slowly up and down Alec's spine in a casual, soothing gesture. "A key. For the loft. Our loft."

Alec glances up. Magnus is smiling, giddy and a little private. "Our loft," Alec echoes, pressing a warm kiss to Magnus' chest. "I like the sound of that."

"As do I, sweetheart." Magnus inclines his head. "Which brings up the key issue."

"Do _you_ have a key?" Alec asks, curiously. He can't imagine why Magnus would need a key, with his magic and his wards. He could probably just look at the door and have it open for him.

"I've never exactly required a key, no." Magnus kisses Alec's forehead. "But you will. I can always create a loophole in my wards for you, but a key is a tangible thing."

"And something I can show off." Alec smirks. He traces another rune onto Magnus skin, this one across his ribs. The _gift_ rune - for all that Magnus has gifted him with in the time they've known each other.

Despite not being real, they seem to hold more power than any Alec has ever had marked on his own skin.

"Hm," Magnus frowns. "I suppose that is a benefit. You could always just go around wearing a sandwich board with 'I love Magnus Bane' on it. Or shout it from the rooftop of the Institute every once and a while. It certainly wouldn't hurt."

"You want me to shout my love for you from the rooftop?" Alec asks, raising his eyebrows, smiling teasingly. "Really?"

Magnus' fingers press firmly into Alec's back. "I'll join you from here. We'll sing a chorus of mashed-up words that only we'll understand."

Alec traces the _trust_ rune where Magnus' navel would be. "Iz is going to have a ball when she finds out. She'll probably offer to help me pack all my things, and then make sarcastic, well-intentioned quips about how I own nothing more than what would fit in a suitcase." He hides a smile in the crook of Magnus' neck, a swell of euphoria washing over him. "We're going to be living together."

He sounds wonderlust and awestruck and he doubts he's ever been this happy before.

"Don't worry," Magnus' hand trails up to rest against his shoulder. "I'm an _excellent_ roommate."

"Yeah?"

Magnus hums, the sound verberating through his chest. "I always clean up after myself and best of all-" He tilts Alec's head up with delicate fingers beneath his chin. "I have a foolproof method for conflict resolution."

Alec purses his lips in compressed amusement. "Of course you do. Care to share?"

Magnus' cat eyes sparkle with molten mischeif. "Strip poker."

Alec rolls his eyes, his hand flattening against Magnus' chest. "I don't even know how to play poker."

"Not a pastime approved by the all-constrictive Clave?" Magnus sighs in exaggerated surprise. "I'm truly shocked. Luckily for you, I'm quite good at it."

"I may not be practiced," Alec tilts his head, nose bumping Magnus' teasingly. "But I am aware of what _strip_ implies."

Magnus smirks. "Then you're aware that it is an entirely win-win situation. There are no losers in strip-poker."

Alec presses a kiss to the corner of Magnus' mouth, then another to the corners of each eye. "We're literally both naked right now," He points out, kissing Magnus' forehead.

"I know," Magnus grins, trailing his hand up until it's tangled in the hairs at the nape of Alec's neck. "It's fantastic."

Alec finds himself drawn into a languid kiss, his body arching into Magnus', hand planted firmly on Magnus' chest. Magnus' nails scrape gently across Alec's neck, his mouth a persistent presence on Alec's, hot and encompassing.

"Any literal skeletons in the closest should probably be taken care of before I properly move my stuff in," Alec comments, casually fiddling with a silver chain on Magnus' neck. It's the only one he refuses to take of, ever.

A lone arrow pendant rests against the hollow of his neck. Alec can't remember exactly when it appeared, he just noticed Magnus wearing it one day, no explanation provided or needed. It's new, he knows that much. Sometime after they'd first said I love you, he thinks. Not that it matters when. Just that it's there.

"No need." Magnus kisses Alec's forehead.

"No skeletons?"

Magnus smiles kindly. "No need to hide anything."

Alec frowns, shifting until he's sitting against the mountain of pillows Magnus adamantly claims he needs. Magnus moves with him, his arm wrapped around Alec's waist. Alec idly traces the _promise_ rune into Magnus' shoulder, pondering Magnus' recent words.

"Mags, I get that you have a long, and - well, illustrious past, but I don't expect you to share it all with me, now or ... ever. I respect you, and I respect that you have secrets you aren't comfortable with sharing. After all you've been through - it's amazing that you are willing to share anything."

Magnus blinks, humbled and awestruck. His 'you never cease to amaze me' look, the kind that sends pleasant sparks across Alec's skin and trips his heart in his chest. "I know that I am not obliged to share anything, Alexander. I'm not doing anything out of duress. I want to share everything with you."

Magnus frowns, gaze darting off in the distance before landing back on Alec. "Maybe not everything at once, there's a few dark things that require some heavy alcohol, and not just for me - but nothing is off-limits to you."

"Wow," Alec blinks, realising how silly he sounds. "Sorry, I just - you really trust me, then?"

It's not that he doubts Magnus trusts him, he just didn't quite realise how much. This is a big deal - for all that Magnus has suffered through, all he has lived and experienced ... he's willing to share all of it with Alec. Just like that. Like it's the easiest thing in the world, which it clearly isn't. It's Magnus' life, it's his deepest secrets, it's what he holds dear to his heart, it's everything he's accumulated over his vast years.

It's everything that has made him who he is, and everything that can break him. And he's giving it to Alec without preamble.

"Alec," Magnus leans in to kiss him, though he's smiling so it's less of a kiss and more of two smiles pressed together softly. "Of course I trust you. There are few I would tell what you already know, and I'm not afraid to share anything else. I love you, Alexander, and with that comes a desire to refrain from any secrets, insignificant or otherwise. No skeletons to hide."

"I love you, too." Alec curls his hand against Magnus' bicep. "And I don't really have anything to share that I haven't already, because I haven't lead a life as long or exciting as yours, but if I ever have any secrets you'll be the first to know."

"You're charming and relentlessly giving," Magnus declares, serious but for the blinding grin on his face. "I will hold you to that. I don't need to be the _first_ to know, just told before Jace."

"I think I can manage that."

It shouldn't be too hard, airing out his own dirty laundry when Magnus is so overwhelmingly open about his own.

And maybe, one day, if things progress as well as they are now, all things considered, and he finds himself lucky enough to be contemplating making their relationship official and everlasting in the eyes of the Clave, and mundane law - in such a situation he probably won't be able to tell Magnus first. It would rather defeat the entire surprising design of a proposal - maybe the only time he breaks such a promise.

It's not a day in his peripheral future, rather a blip in his timeline that he ponders over when his mind is racing and sleep is dancing out of his reach.

For now, he has Magnus, no holds barred, and so much love bubbling inside him it's a wonder that he hasn't burst. It wouldn't be such a bad way to go. Death by the overwhelming effects of true love.

True love. Something he never thought he could have, and now something he can't ever imagine himself living without.

**Author's Note:**

> god this was a monster to write. it wasn't supposed to be this long, I don't know what happened. this is the biggest one-shot I have ever writen. (edited by me, at like 4am. all mistakes are mine.)
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed it!!
> 
> (please feel free to comment and tell me if you liked it/what you liked because I'm really proud of this, and hit up [my tumblr](http://killjoyrow.tumblr.com/) to talk to me about malec (one week guys!!) )
> 
> \--
> 
> massive gratitude and love to my parabatai Hannah, who listened to me ramble about this fic and who read it over and spammed my texts with her gorgeous thoughts: your endless support is everything. <3
> 
> also shout-out to my darling vulturemonem who knew nothing about this fic but still supported me with words of encouragement. you helped more, I think, than you realised. <3 
> 
> you can find hannah [here](http://procrastination-take-over.tumblr.com) and lu [here](http://notcrypticbutcoy.tumblr.com/) \-- my love to you both
> 
> also massive props to the shadowhunters wiki and my new best friend, the codex.


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